


And We'll Love, And We'll Hope

by VeritasEtVita



Category: Bleach
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Mystery, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Romance, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, new powers, ulquihime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-15
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 142,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeritasEtVita/pseuds/VeritasEtVita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mysterious intervention on Orihime's part changed the war's dynamic and ending, and it somehow resurrects Ulquiorra in the process. As the two grow closer in the living world, questions still remain, leaving Orihime unstable and confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Silent End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why couldn't she save what she wanted to save?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Adagio" by Amici Forever

****  
_\- { dust to dust } -_

 

That was it.

Ashes.

Maybe it was a major fault of hers to be so forgiving, the kind of emotional person to be so easily attached to others, even if it was her less-than-compassionate captor.

But those sad, vulnerable emerald eyes and the subtly soft, surprised way he said, "Really..." made Orihime Inoue a believer. A believer of the inherent good in others; of second chances. A chance Ulquiorra Cifer wouldn't be able to have, because he was gone, now lost to the desert winds of Hueco Mundo. Why couldn't life be fair?

The wet blur in her vision told her that his demise affected her more than she anticipated. There was a strong feeling of remorse in her heart, but she had to move on. Her friends' rescue couldn't be taken in vain.

"-nearby," suddenly came Ichigo's voice. Orihime had only gotten the tail-end of his words when she wandered out of her thoughts. But she couldn't formulate a proper response just yet. The image of Ulquiorra's thin, pale hand disintegrating was burned into her mind. It kept playing in her head like the ending to a tragic movie.

"Hey..." struggled another male voice. Orihime suddenly remembered Uryuu, who was gravely injured from both Ulquiorra and the mysterious, but much more dangerous side of Ichigo. She turned her attention to the Quincy, giving him the utmost apologetic expression.

"Ishida-kun!" she gasped, rushing to him as he gingerly moved toward their resident healer. Without wasting any time, she got to work, casting the familiar golden-yellow barrier over her friend and reversing the injury.

She then wondered just how much she could reverse. Like say, someone's life. Ulquiorra had told her she couldn't, but what if he was wrong?

Ichigo, who was too caught up in the battles of war, hastily shot them both rueful looks before taking off.

He didn't even stick around to let her thank him. But in the end, it didn't even matter, did it? Orihime didn't feel like she should thank Ichigo for the death of the one Espada she didn't hate. The one Espada she was willing to hold her hand and her heart out to. Instead, she should apologizing to him. After all, she was the one with compassionate emotions toward someone who had once beaten her beloved Kurosaki-kun to a pulp.

 _But just how beloved is he to me now...?_ she wondered somberly.

"Inoue-san..." Uryuu spoke up, catching her attention. He was completely healed.

"Ah, hai!" Orihime squeaked, hastily dismissing her powers. "Gomen..."

He shook his head as he sat up. He rolled and stretched his newly healed arm, making sure everything was completely intact. "Don't apologize. I'm sure Kurosaki's fine now. He's going to catch up to Kuchiki-san, Sado, and Abarai."

 _Ah, so that was what Kurosaki-kun was saying_ , she thought absently.

But Ishida's guesses weren't why she was distracted, or why the tears remained in her eyes. However, Orihime didn't bother correcting him.

She should forget about Ulquiorra. All in all, he was the enemy; her emotionless captor. She shouldn't put so much trust in an Espada. He would have killed her if Aizen wanted.

But still, that feeling didn't go away. The feeling of what she could have done. Ulquiorra wanted and deserved another chance. He had only realized it too late.

"Come, we must leave," Uryuu told her, furrowing a brow at her quietness. Clearly, he didn't understand what had being going on with her and Ulquiorra. He gripped her gently by the arm. "Be strong, Inoue-san..."

 _I'm trying_ , she answered silently, feigning a smile at her companion. _But... I don't understand... why it's so hard..._

He started for the door, pulling her along, but was immediately stopped when he felt her not move along with him. "Inoue-san..." he pressed, slightly impatient. "There's no time."

"Gomen."

Orihime had no choice but to follow Uryuu. Giving the Las Noches tower one last, regretful look, she turned and left.

\- { - } -

Everything thereafter became a blur. Somewhere along the way, Orihime got separated from Uryuu. Another nameless Arrancar had gotten in their way. Because of his affinity for explosions, the hallways ahead of them became no more than heavy pieces of rubble. Some falling debris then hit her head, knocking her out for a good hour, or so she estimated.

When she woke up, Uryuu and the Arrancar were nowhere to be found. With the shortest way out of Las Noches permanently blocked, she had no other option than to find another route, and on the way, search for Uryuu and the rest of her comrades.

She sat up gingerly, immediately noticing the piercing pain in her head. She felt several streaks of something wet and warm run down her face. Woozily, she whispered, "Souten Kisshun; I reject."

In no time, she was healed, dizziness gone and everything. But it didn't improve her current mood.

For once, her healing fairies stuck around. It was rare of them to do so nowadays, but this whole Hueco Mundo business was a unique situation for her, and thus, they felt that they should check in with her.

"Orihime-sama," Shun'ou began worriedly, his brows furrowed as he hovered in front of her nose. "We can sense the sadness in you. It's overwhelming and beginning to affect our powers."

"Even more so than in your cell," Ayame noted. "At least then..." her voice drifted off as she hesitated, "you also had your confidence and will..."

Orihime smiled sadly. "I'm fine. Just... a little lonely. Really."

The two fairies exchanged doubtful looks, but didn't say anymore as they disappeared back into her hairpins.

Now in the desolate, winding halls of Las Noches, the redhead had no choice but to find her way out of the palace. Unluckily for her, every hallway and every crevice seemed like they were built the same way. Orihime was getting vertigo just standing there.

The entire time, she had trouble ceasing all thoughts of the hand she wished she had grabbed. It only reiterated her uselessness. If only she knew how to bring back a life...

But even if she was strong enough to do that, then what would be the point? She was only going to be pushed back during battle. She was just the _healer_ to everyone else. But contrary to what they all thought, she had the will. If she needed to attack, she would.

How sad that she had to remind herself of this every time.

She walked along, up the stairs, down the stairs, and left and right, curious as to why Las Noches felt particularly empty. Was everyone off fighting? Making themselves useful somehow? She wasn't sure if she should think, O _h, just my luck! No Arrancar to abuse me!_ Or if she should feel scared that she could possibly be abandoned.

The area she was in was starting to look familiar to her. As in, different from the other myriad of hallways she previously walked by. She has definitely been down here before. Here, there was a large, but secret room with an unmarked door leading into it. She knew what it was. It was the one that contained only something that fit into the palm of her hand, even as spacious as the room was.

She almost expected Aizen or someone to come after her right then, scolding her (or worse) for coming to this important (and secret) area on her own, even though the ex-captain was the one who led her here, who showed her the thing himself.

But Las Noches was eerily quiet.

With her footsteps being the only sound in the sterile hallway, she gave the door a hard push from the side, sliding it open with all of her might, even though she physically wasn't the strongest person there was. Despite how easy it may have seemed for the Arrancar, Espada, and ex-shinigami, the door was undeniably heavy. There seemed to be some security after all.

 _No,_ she argued with herself, _I'm strong._

That was it. She just needed to believe in herself as much as she believed in Ichigo and her other comrades.

And in Ulquiorra...

She shook her head in an attempt to keep _him_ out of her head.

It took several tries, but she managed to get the door open enough for her to get through. Orihime collapsed through the door way, gasping for breath on the cold, tile floor. After recovering, she ventured further inside. It was freezing inside the vast room, but the temperature wasn't the only thing that made goosebumps appear on her flesh.

She made her way to the circular pillar in the middle of the room. Her heart was racing. This was _the_ Hougyoku. She could feel the power of it seeping out of its encasing.

But comically, she found herself clueless at the contraption in front of her. "How do I open this...?" she mumbled with a small frustration. She had watched Aizen do this before, but she wasn't sure if it was via his own powers or if there was an ON switch of some kind.

In the end, it didn't matter to her. She could feel the pressure of the sphere inside, and that was good enough for her; no question about its being there. She would just have a little more to undo than she expected.

After taking a deep breath, and letting it out slow and steady, she set her determined gray eyes on the contraption.

"Souten Kisshun," Orihime began, staring hard at the thing that brought nothing but grief to Rukia, Ichigo, and the Soul Society. Nothing but meaningless wars and pointless battles between individuals with hopes, dreams, and friends.

She was the only one there in that building, she concluded to herself in reassurance. Why such an important artifact was left unguarded, she didn't know, but she wagered that it was because Aizen didn't believe she would be capable of destroying it. She also bet the other Arrancar didn't know about this room; not even Ulquiorra himself.

She had to prove her worth. She had just as much fighting resolve as anyone, and could prove it.

"I reject!"

A dome-like barrier covered the Hougyoku's pillar, but she felt that nothing seemed to change about it. Orihime gritted her teeth, forcing every ounce of mental strength into the spell. "I reject!" she yelled again, her voice rising.

_Why won't it work?_

_Aren't I stronger than this?_

_I can fight, too..._

"Souten Kisshun! I reject!"

Tears filled her eyes. Was she really as useless as Urahara said? Why couldn't she do a simple thing like destroy a marble-sized orb with her supposed god-like powers?

Feeling a sense of hopelessness, she sank to the ground, in front of the pillar holding the orb. With her hair curtained around her tearing face, she only wondered why she felt so limited. She didn't care how much reiatsu she put into this or not, whether or not the spiritual drainage would be the cause of her death; she just wanted to _affirm_ that she had to ability to save others.

And yet, why couldn't she save what she wanted to save?

Why couldn't she stop thinking about Ulquiorra's death?

 _Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..._ she thought listlessly. Immediately following the words in her head, she remembered the image of Ulquiorra fading away, disintegrating into nothing.

She closed her eyes. _As if he corroded..._

And unexpectedly, something clicked. Rising again to her feet, she took a breath, beginning a spell she has never done, but at the same time, felt completely familiar with.

"FUSHOKUTEN SHISHUN!" she cried. To her surprised, but unwavering silvery gray eyes, ribbons of brighter, white-yellow surrounded the barrier that was already around the Hougyoku, encircling the spherical shield with a glimmering power of its own.

A new foreign energy, heavy and blindingly luminescent to her mind, surged within her as she finished her newfound spell.

"I REJECT!"

As soon as the words left her lips, the dome of gold and its swirling strings suddenly expanded; so fast and so unexpected that Orihime suddenly felt scared and confused. Not because she was afraid of injuring herself, since her spells were incapable of harming her, the user, but because she didn't know how to harness it. She found herself inside her own barrier, looking upward.

The dome began to spin, clockwise to the ribbons' counterclockwise, twirling ever the larger, beyond the room and probably beyond Las Noches, looming ominously over her surroundings. Nothing seemed to happen within it yet, judging from the pillar's unchanging appearance, but she knew that if she didn't do anything soon, that might change.

 _What's going on?_ She wondered in concern, discovering that her full attention wasn't even on the spell anymore. It was taking on a life of its own. She began to worry for her nakama, who were all still somewhere in Hueco Mundo, fighting for her sake.

"Ayame-san... Shun'ou-san!" she called urgently. "What are you doing?"

They did not respond.

It was strange. They always answered to her, no matter what.

"Tsubaki-san?" she cried, her voice shrill and quick. "Baigon-san? Hinagiku-san?"

_What..._

Budding helplessness.

"Lily-san...?"

It was as if they disappeared.

Well, if her Shun Shun Rikka weren't going to be responsive, she would have to take matters into her own hands. She didn't need them to manifest for her powers to work, did she?

_I'm strong._

She stretched both of her hands above her head, concentrating her reiatsu into her palms. She found herself praying for any god's cooperation. Because in reality, she didn't know what to do.

Suddenly, without her realizing it, she began to sob, her heart wrenching as she struggled to control her powerful shield. She cried for her fallen nakama, her fallen hopes and dreams, and her fallen captor. Every emotion she has bravely withheld from Aizen and his subordinates began rushing out out of her like water rushing out of an open dam. Perhaps it was the imminence of this situation that triggered it, or because she was too weak to keep holding such a strong face.

_Why me? Why, why me?_

She just didn't understand. However, there was no use in pitying herself any longer.

"I reject..." she whispered with a trembling voice, closing her eyes.

"Please..."

\- { - } -

Ichigo turned, feeling Orihime's reiatsu spike dramatically. So high, in fact, that it was almost like there were five of her. Eyebrows knitted together in concern, he turned to Renji, Yasutora, and Rukia, who were all equally stunned.

"What is she doing?" the petite girl wondered, her voice soft and cautious.

Before he had the chance to come to his own conclusions, he and his friends were suddenly engulfed in a blinding yellow light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fushokuten Shishun = Sacred corroding death shield. (I hope this is put together right; I'm out of practice)
> 
> Thanks to LovelyMasoka @ FF.Net for some corrections on the honorifics Orihime and Ishida use!


	2. My Silent End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She is ready to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Playlist:_** "Just Be" by Tiesto; "T'en Vas Pas" by Elsa (Orihime's theme song whaaaat~).

 

 

  
_\- { tadaima, halcyon days } -_

Eyes fluttered open.

A man suddenly found himself lying on cold, hard ground. A little bumpy, but he realized that he was resting on piles of bones. Surrounding him were moving walls in a motley of purples and blues.

Where was he? Moreover, _who_ was he? There was one thought—only one—running through his mind, but he didn't know what it had to do with his identity. Nevertheless, it was probably the only way he could find that out.

Through his peripheral vision below his feet, a surge of light burst in, as if it was the opening out of a tunnel.

He squinted his eyes, adjusting to the sudden intake of light.

Two nameless shinigami stood there, both suddenly startled of someone other than themselves being there. "Who's there?" one asked in a defensive tenor voice. Both had swords drawn.

The man stood up, now aware that he was stark naked and cold. Raising his arms up in submission, he walked forward, hoping these men could find him answers he was looking for.

The second shinigami lowered his blade slightly, but widened his eyes in fearful recognition. "A... Arrancar!"

\- { - } -

Uryuu told Orihime that she was conked out for the rest of the Winter War, plus another entire week, recovering from all that had happened in Hueco Mundo. Her energy had been almost completely drained, her reiatsu the weakest it had ever been. When she finally woke up—to the relief of all of her friends—the Quincy, among others, began to take turns looking after her for a while, since for some reason, she was still too weak to do very much.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to believe that she was out for so long, even after Uryuu proved it with the calendar. But what choice did she have? She was the one gone for an unspecified amount of time.

Uryuu definitely looked like he was hiding something from her, but the redhead assumed that it seemed that way because of her grogginess playing tricks on her.

But what happened? The last thing she remembered was being in a large, spacious room,-the Hougyoku room-with yellow surrounding her from every angle. Everything else was-

"Ow,ow,owww~," she groaned in a strained voice, quickly reaching her fingers up to rub her temples.

And she couldn't remember anything else after that.

Anyway, she guessed that she managed to destroy the Hougyoku. She also guessed that it took a huge chunk of reiatsu out of her, hence her bedridden-ness.

But that reaction was strange, nonetheless.

"Inoue-san!" Uryuu called to her urgently, after hearing her cry out. He practically ran to her side at her futon. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, having recovering from the sudden ache in her head. "I'm fine! Just like a cow on warm day!"

"... What does that mean?"

She blinked. "Because," she said matter-of-factly, "a cow is most relaxed when eating grass on a nice summer day."

"I see..."

She smiled at him.

Orihime couldn't express in words how grateful she was for his kindness. So far, he has been the one she's seen visit her and look after her the most. It spoke volumes about how much he cared, although sometimes he came off as a little overprotective. She knew that he had feelings for her, and she wished that she could feel the same way for someone as thoughtful and intelligent as him, but ultimately, she just couldn't feel it in her heart.

He looked at the time on her alarm clock and made a face. "I have to go soon," Uryuu told her begrudgingly, grabbing his bookbag. "Will you be okay for the rest of the day?"

She nodded with muted optimism.

He looked as though he wanted her to say no, but truthfully, Orihime wanted some alone time.

Uryuu stared down at his shoes as he pushed his feet slowly into them at the front of her apartment. Something seemed to pop into his head, for he paused for a brief second before turning back to her.

"Inoue-san," he said to her, disquieted. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Hm? I rested pretty well," she replied cheerfuly, stretching her arms above her head. "I'll be back in shape soon. No sweat, Ishida-kun."

He shook his head. "Not that." He frowned at her. He opened his mouth to add something, but then didn't; as if he changed his mind.

She didn't ask. It was probably just another similar question. Uryuu was always so careful with her. Plus, she didn't recall telling anyone about how she really felt about Ulquiorra.

Orihime gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine."

_In time. I just need time. I'm not weak._

"Oh, and Ishida-kun?"

He whirled around to face her, almost too eagerly. "Inoue-san?"

She bowed her head in serene apology, sighing softly. She had to get this out of the way. "I'm sorry."

He initially looked puzzled. But after a moment, he let his lips curve into a half-smile. His dark blue orbs expressed a hint of sadness, but more noticeably, an emotionally perceptive understanding. "I know, Inoue-san," he replied faintly. He turned away again, stepping toward her door and laying a hand on the doorknob. "I've known for a long time."

She perked up at his last words, guilt evident in her eyes. "Ishi-"

"It's okay," he cut in, before she could say anymore. "If I can be with you just like this..." She heard him let out a soft, drawn-out breath. "... then it's more than enough."

She couldn't identify the tone in his voice. It was too careful and too collected, as if he was consciously trying to hide how he was feeling.

Her door creaked open, the late afternoon sunlight spilling through. Ironically so, when compared to the gloomier atmosphere in her apartment.

Uryuu didn't even toss her another glance or a goodbye. He left hastily, leaving Orihime to bear the heavy weight of breaking his heart by herself. She really was sorry, but she didn't want to keep leading him on, if that was what she was doing unconsciously. She only wanted to make her feelings for him clear.

She was more intuitive than the others thought.

She may be a little ditzy, but she knew what her friends were thinking when it came to her, post-war. She's overheard what Yasutora, Uryuu, Ichigo, and Rukia have been saying; that she was emotionally unstable and psychologically traumatized after being imprisoned. It was something she disagreed with for the most part. The redhead knew she _did_ rely a lot on what she felt in her heart in many situations, but she was tired of being seen as delicate when Rukia was literally half her size.

In fact, Orihime found that, like the ashes scattered in the breeze, memories of Ulquiorra began to fade from her mind. They were still present, but her heart broke a little less each time she remembered.

_Take that!_

But then, even her feelings for Ichigo began to wane, which made her a little sad, because of everything she's whispered to him before leaving for Hueco Mundo that fateful night. And also because, despite the blind rage and bloodlust from scary, monstrous Hollow side of him, he has selflessly rescued her again and again.

At the time, she thought she could get past that Hollow Ichigo from Hueco Mundo, because she _loved_ him so much that it didn't matter. She wanted five lifetimes with him, after all. Chaotic Vizard side and everything.

 _But it wasn't love,_ she came to realize sometime during her recovery. She cared about him greatly, but there was something within her that strongly questioned the term she used for her feelings toward Ichigo. What was love, then? What was _this_? Just an obsession? A little high school crush that went beyond what she imagined? Did she begin liking him only because he was _nice_?

Orihime sighed. She didn't want to think about it anymore.

It wasn't like he would reciprocate, anyway.

But even with the feelings gradually dying down, a small bit of jealousy still flared up whenever Rukia was brought up, or whenever the redhead found the two of them together, joking, laughing, and playfully bantering like they always did when they visited her together. Orihime never held it against the raven-haired shinigami, though. Rukia was very much a precious friend like Uryuu, Yasutora, Tatsuki, and Ichigo were.

In any case, she was ready to move on. From everything.

\- { - } -

Uryuu, having left Orihime's home, walked along the sidewalk, enroute to Kurosaki Clinic. Ever since the war, he and Ichigo have gotten along better, especially with the circumstances surrounding their redhaired healer.

But of course, no two adolescent boys of similar power standings could resist a friendly rivalry. They still bickered from time to time.

Ichigo and Rukia were already outside of the shinigami's house when Uryuu approached, arguing heatedly over... well, nothing pithy, the Quincy supposed. "I see this household hasn't gotten any quieter," he remarked, loud enough for his nakama to hear.

Both turned to him, fight interrupted.

"Ishida!" Ichigo exclaimed, still showing signs of slight irritation. Nothing unusual. "What do you want? We're busy!"

Unlike him, Rukia seemed to have calmed down, her expression turning more serious. "Did you just come back from Orihime's?"

The bespectacled teen nodded, masking any sign of the last exchange he and Orihime had. "Inoue-san... doesn't seem to remember," he said quietly. "Not anything."

"Still?" Rukia asked, furrowing her brow.

Ichigo frowned. "Like Urahara and Yamamoto said, maybe she's better off that way. Looks like she really suppressed those memories."

Rukia didn't like the idea, but it was perhaps for the best. Orihime's mental state didn't look like it used to, given the super reserved personality she now had. If she knew everything about the war, especially her involvement, it might shatter her. Even if it proved everyone wrong about her strength...

"Oi," Ichigo said to the waifish shinigami, glancing at her curiously. "What are you thinking?"

She shrugged, her expression grim. "Just wondering about Orihime. Who knows how her time at Hueco Mundo affected her in that aspect?" She closed her eyes briefly. "I can understand where she's coming from, due to my time in prison, but I can safely say that Orihime is a lot more sensitive than I am."

The two boys were silent at her words, which was just fine, because the dark-haired shinigami went on. "On top of that," she said, "she had apparently been psychologically traumatized, to the point that it looked like she was starting to feel _attachment_ toward one of those Espada. That is, according to you, Ichigo."

"I don't know exactly what happened," Ichigo replied, narrowing his eyes at the memory, "since Orihime's been quiet about it and all, but she..." He shook his head in irritation. "Ulquiorra, right before he died, asked her if she was afraid. Orihime said no, and tried to grab his hand." He glanced at Uryuu. "You can vouch for that, right, Ishida?"

Uryuu snorted. "Vaguely, Kurosaki. I was nearly dying, remember?" He smirked humorlessly.

Ichigo turned away from him. "Way to guilt trip me, Ass," he grumbled.

Rukia rolled her eyes, "Anyway," she stressed, "if there's no chance for her to regain her memory of _that_ time, I think we should..." she cast her violet eyes to her feet. "Keep her in the dark about this."

"Only until she's mentally strong enough," Uryuu added sharply.

"Until she's mentally strong enough," Rukia repeated in agreement. "Whenever that might be."

"If we do that, we can't let her train for a while," Ichigo interjected, crossing his arms. "It'll be my turn next to check on her tomorrow, so I'll make up some excuse about it."

Uryuu looked at him. "Not let her train? Why? Because it might hinder her recovery?"

He nodded. "But also... what if it happens again? Even on accident?" Ichigo asked pensively. "And she...?" He didn't finish.

The Quincy's eyes contemplatively fell from his friend's face to the ground.

The lone female cleared her throat. "I'll let Sado know what's going on," she suggested. "He should be home by now, right?"

"Aa," affirmed Ichigo. "He's not really gonna like it, though..."

"I know. He'll just have to deal." Not wanting to waste anymore time with additional chatter, Rukia nodded at the two of them in departure and took her leave.

The orange-haired shinigami leaned against the gate to his house and sighed loudly. Uryuu couldn't blame him. Ever since Orihime woke up after her peaceful rest, the four of them have been tiptoeing around the girl when it came to her abilities. Despite her claims of willfully being able to fight alongside her nakama, they all knew that she wouldn't hurt a fly; she would heal it with love and tenderness instead.

If she found out what really happened before the fall of Aizen and his subordinates, she wouldn't take it well. Funnily, she might bow with at least a thousand apologies, but Orihime would also be heartbreakingly hard on herself. She already had a lot on her plate. The Quincy only hoped that her blissful ignorance would be there to stay.

Whatever it took to keep their princess safely guarded.

Even if it was from herself.

"Say, Ishida," Ichigo spoke up after a long moment of silence. "What's up with you? You seem more blah than usual." He looked curious rather than concerned.

_Figures._

Uryuu remembered Orihime's apology. "Careful, Kurosaki," the dark-haired boy said with an upward push of his glasses, further hiding himself behind them, "you almost sounded like you cared."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Well, excuuuuuuse me for not being a dick!"

Uryuu snorted breezily in response, turning his head to the side as he folded his arms over his chest.

And then, in a much quieter, more serious tone from the normally rambunctious teen: "Inoue will be fine. I believe it... so don't worry too much about her."

The Quincy peered at him out of the corner of his eye. Whether she was doing okay or not wasn't currently at the forefront of his mind, but it was still refreshing to hear encouragement like that from his stubborn friend and rival.

"Yeah..."

\- { - } -

Orihime turned to her side in her futon, facing the night sky through her window.

Crescent moons in the late night reminded her of Hueco Mundo. The only things missing were the iron bars that partically blocked her view.

She didn't mean to think about her prison cell, but it had been in her most recent dream. Nothing exciting in particular, but the sight of that moon from that room was practically embedded into the vision-related lobe in her brain.

Her occasional nightmares consisted of flashbacks of Hueco Mundo. There was a lot of grotesque bloodshed both inside and outside of Las Noches. Sometimes, she could taste Nnoitra's sandy, filthy fingers in her mouth, gagging her in Dreamland.

Strangely enough, she mostly dreamt in yellowish gold, a hue similar to her own shields. It was as if she was seeing things through dandelion-colored glasses, or more accurately, through her barriers; whatever that meant. Dreams were odd things.

And then there were times when Ulquiorra popped up in them. Never in a bad light. Not in a good one, either, but she found those dreams to be much more pleasant than she thought, albeit sad. But Orihime was strong enough to not hold on to such sad memories with irreversible attachment. She has gone through a lot worse than that.

Besides, Ulquiorra might have been happy to have completed his Hollow (in more sense than one) life with that final epiphany.

_And yet..._

Her gaze flickered to her wrist next to her head, where that magical silver bracelet had once been. She then let her eyes drift to her upturned palm.

Life still wasn't fair.

\- { - } -

The raven-haired man, sitting on his heels and now dressed in a dull green yukata, felt someone (Choujirou, he assumed) force the back of his head down in a low, respectful bow. He bit back a cry of protest as his forehead dug into the tatami mat.

His audience was Yamamoto Genryuusai, the captain-commander of the First Division of the Gotei 13, along with his subordinates, which consisted of his own lieutenant and the other captains. The man knew this much, but he'd rather know his own name before learning someone else's.

"Have you come to pay for your crimes, Espada?" spat the old captain. Even with the stranger's green eyes solely on the bamboo floor, he could feel his aged eyes burning into him like raging fire. "Or have you come to let us cut you into Hell?"

"I don't know," he forced out, trying to push back the pressure against his head.

"You lie, Hollow!" Genryuusai bellowed. "You dare deny what you've done just because we killed your creator?"

 _Hollow? Creator?_ He wondered, his large, emerald orbs widening a small degree. _What?_ He felt even more lost. Did this man really just call him a Hollow? Wasn't he in Soul Society?

"Captain-Commander," Retsu, who was standing somewhere on the stranger's left, spoke up gently. "Please. This Arrancar... former one, rather... he doesn't remember a thing. Let him be. The man needs to be put under my care. Once—or if—he recovers his memories, we will deal with him on that level."

"He's a Hollow!" Genryuusai growled. "It doesn't matter if this rascal has amnesia! Put him in a cell and let him rot! Or I will take care of the kid myself!"

"I'm not defending this guy," another person interjected from somewhere on the stranger's right. He recognized the younger-sounding voice as belonging to the short, silvery-white haired captain. "But Unohana-taichou is right. He's not even Hollow anymore. The hole and his mask remnants are both gone."

"So, he's one of us," chimed in yet another voice he somewhat recognized.

_That canine-faced captain._

"He will never be one of us," scoffed a female, the captain of the Second Division, if he recalled correctly. "Memories regained or not. It won't matter. He doesn't have our power or our training."

"Then, if he is just another denizen of Soul Society," a gentle masculine voice said, "then we should listen to Unohana-taichou and leave him alone."

"That doesn't bother me," a lazier baritone added.

"No fun killin' if he ain't Espada no more," a gruff-sounding male snickered. The amnesiac could feel that captain's reiatsu rise with wild and dangerous liveliness.

The man was tired of hearing voices all around him, talking about him as if he wasn't there, but the forceful bow wasn't loosening up at all. He was sure the ridges of the tatami mat were engraved into his face by now. And what the hell was an Espada? An Arrancar?

He gritted his teeth in irritation.

"Hand him over to me," declared a creepy, hollow male voice. "An Arrancar-turned-Plus experiment would satisfy my studies just fine." There was a brief pause. "Oh, what is that look, Kuchiki? Surely you can't be full of _disdain_ regarding my research, hm?"

"I said no such thing," was the cold, detached reply.

"We have yet to hear from our newest captain," came the lazy-sounding male again. "Hisagi-taichou?"

"Excuse me?" the supposedly new captain replied questioningly.

 _Enough of this._ "Permission to speak!" the newcomer shouted suddenly, his words only slightly muffled due to the close proximity to the floor.

There was silence.

"Haha, the green-eyed twig wants to talk, Gramps!" the wild male cackled.

"Please," he pleaded, his own voice hoarse but stoic. Odd how his voice just naturally fell into that vacant tone. "I have a request."

There was a heavy sigh. "Let him go, Sasakibe," the old captain-commander said, disgruntled. "Let's see what idiot thing the kid wants."

All of a sudden, the amnesiac found himself suddenly released from the tatami floor. Hesitantly, he rose to his original sitting position, self-consciously rubbing the bamboo marks from his forehead. The back of his head was a dull ache, but it was nothing that needed attending.

He felt the eyes of all the captains on him. Some stared warily; others deadpanned. A few looked at him benignly; whereas one, specifically, the unusual-looking captain with a black-and-white face and a headdress, stared at him a bit... hungrily in a mad scientist kind of way, lack of better wording. Something about that seemed familiar, though.

"Spit it out," Genryuusai barked from his seat at center-front.

The green-eyed stranger took in a small breath before speaking, bowing on his own accord briefly before opening his mouth. "I need to find someone," he said, his emerald gaze resolute on the captain-commander.

Some of the captains shot each other quizzical looks. "Kurosaki Ichigo?" he heard some whisper as guesses.

It wasn't him.

The single memory that he had waking up, as mysterious and nameless as it was, consisted of someone else. _She_ was vital to unlocking his identity.

"Long red hair," he continued, "and big gray eyes. She had blue hairpins." He began forming an oval shape with his hands. "She had these... shields..."

The reactions changed. It was as if none of them knew how to make of his description. Did they not know her? If not, then he was at a loss. What was going to trigger his memories now?

Genryuusai gave him a hard, penetrating stare, as if he were trying to figure out his intentions. "We know that girl," he replied roughly, to the man's inward relief. "Inoue Orihime."

The amnesiac mouthed the name to himself, getting used to the way it felt on his lips. He wasn't sure that he recognized the name, but if that was his only memory, then he had better remember it. Besides, it sounded nice; easy on the ears.

The captain-commander turned to the young captain with teal blue eyes. "Hitsugaya. You and Matsumoto are acquainted with the girl, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"I give you permission to go to Karakura and tell her. Whether or not she wants to see this brat is up to her." His eyes shifted back skeptically to the black-haired stranger, and then right back to his addressee. "If that girl comes, tell her to report to Unohana or Kotetsu of the Fourth Division. Their squad will be in charge of keeping the Espada for the moment."

_Fantastic..._

"Hai, Yamamoto-soutaichou." The one called Hitsugaya walked casually out of the room, sparing the amnesiac only a brief, narrow-eyed leer as he exited.

Genryuusai finally turned back to the former Hollow. "I'm sick of seeing your face." He hastily motioned the Fourth Squad captain toward the newcomer. "Unohana, take him away. I will interrogate him again later, _especially_ if seeing Inoue Orihime brings back his memories."

His heart almost skipped a beat in anticipation.

_But why?_

What did that girl mean to him?

"Inoue Orihime..." he whispered to himself again, as if saying her name would magically make it all come back.

He would anxiously await her.

\- { - } -

School days came and went quickly ever since she returned. After being involved so much with the Soul Society, Orihime was used to having to catch up with grossly high amounts of homework. This time was no different. Ichigo, Yasutora, and Uryuu were great help to her, as well. It was hardly a dull moment with her friends.

However, something was tugging at her. Something was very wrong, but she couldn't put a finger to what it was.

"Inoue-san?"

She turned. Yasutora was standing behind her. "Sado-kun," she replied in greeting.

They were outside the school gates on a Friday. Orihime was fully recovered and fully caught up; obviously the last one to do so out of her nakama. It was time for the group of friends to celebrate.

"Orihime!" A girl with short, black hair came bounding out of the gates excitedly, nearly pouncing the redhead with a hug.

"Tatsuki-chan," Orihime greeted with a smile.

She felt guilty about the lack of communication with her as of late. So much had happened, but it wasn't like Orihime had the place to tell her. Tatsuki wasn't—nor ever will be—involved Soul Society and their situations, no matter how much the martial artist wanted to protect her and Ichigo.

Hell, the tomboy didn't even know _exactly_ why they were celebrating.

Yasutora and Tatsuki greeted each other amicably. The two of them weren't very close, but Tatsuki's talkativeness was more than enough to fill the awkward-silence voids. Orihime stood back and merely observed the conversation, responding when she was prompted to.

Now, if only Yasutora didn't look at her so suspiciously.

She glanced back at her silent, brown-haired friend, mutely waiting for him to acknowledge the inquiring expression on her face.

She _knew_ he saw and comprehended, judging from the uneasy roll of his shoulders under her gaze. Was he feeling guilty? Did he view her the same way as their other nakama did? She never heard him talk among the group whenever she eavesdropped on them, but either way, the redhead was beyond baffled; was this the same friend who defended her strength and honor when Urahara put her down?

Was he keeping something from her?

It didn't take long for Ichigo and Uryuu to bound out of the gates; her former orange-haired crush rambling on about something and the dark-haired Quincy keeping silent, either involuntarily listening or intentionally ignoring him. Rukia was not there that day. She had matters to attend to at her real home in Soul Society.

"Inoue, Arisawa, Chad," Ichigo greeted casually, hands folded behind his head and his bookbag dangling from his fingers.

Uryuu merely adjusted his glasses, giving each of the girls and Yasutora a look of hello.

Things between him and Orihime were more or less back to normal. Of course, Orihime sensed that he never forgot about the implied rejection from her, but the Quincy never tried to avoid her, nor pit her as the bad guy, which was something she was thankful for.

"What are we waiting for?" she heard Ichigo exclaim, already ahead of her on the sidewalk. "Inoue wants karaoke, so karaoke we go!"

Orihime blinked a few times, realizing that she had gone and got herself lost in thought. Again.

"Oi, wake up, Orihime!" Tatsuki said, nudging the redhead teasingly. Her voice became an excited whisper as she leaned closer to her ear. She linked arms with her best friend, pulling her along to follow after the boys. "I know you daydream about Kurosaki and all, but why do that when he's right there in real life? For _you,_ at that?"

Orihime offered an apprehensive, disconcerted smile. "A-ano... Tatsuki-chan..." She completely forgot about informing Tatsuki that she had given up on pursuing Ichigo, but couldn't figure out if she should tell her now (before she planned something convenient or suggestive for Orihime's sake), or _not_ ruin the little party atmosphere her friends have created for her. In the end, she chose not to say anything. Not yet, at the very least. Tatsuki would certainly make a scene about the sudden change of heart. She was a very passionate person.

She shouldn't even be thinking about anything else but karaoke and an okonomiyaki dinner with her friends, anyway. This was supposed to be a day of fun and relaxation.

As the group neared the bus stop meant to take them to their destination, Orihime decided that today, she was going to let go and just _be_.

\- { - } -

"Aaaah, so full," Ichigo sighed to himself in satisfaction.

It had been a good afternoon and evening. Inoue was back on her feet, more charged than ever about schoolwork and getting her life back to normal. He was frankly glad for her. Their group of friends was so glad, actually, that it called for a small celebration of sorts. Karaoke and okonomiyaki with his nakama definitely hit the spot.

In a way, it was a celebration for him, Yasutora, and Uryuu, as well. After all of the fighting and high amounts of stress involved with the Winter War, they needed something to help them unwind, to bring them back to a much more peaceful time in their lives. With the whole situation with Aizen out of the way, Ichigo didn't need to be concerned with anything from Hueco Mundo except for the Gillian-class Hollows; it was now more like pest control, really, given that Ichigo had fought muchharder before.

A faint, but familiar reiatsu was abruptly brought to Ichigo's attention, disrupting his inner musings. He stopped in mid-step. Someone was in Karakura, but who? And why?

_Damn. Don't we get any rest around here?_

His relaxed stride became a spirited run as he headed in the direction where the feel of the reiatsu got stronger. It seemed to be coming from the park. As he got closer, Ichigo began to recognize a spikey-haired silhouette leaning nonchalantly against a tree.

"Slow as hell," was the first thing to come out of the person's mouth. He stepped away from the tree to reveal himself.

"Ah, Renji," said Ichigo. "I thought we were done with this shit. What're you doing here?"

The red-haired shinigami acknowledged him with a scoff. "Nothing threatening."

"Don't tell me you came out here to kill some Gillians. That's just pathetic, _Lieutenant_."

Renji growled under his breath, the corner of his lips twitching. "Watch it, Ichigo. You might be talkin' to a captain now. Che."

"What the hell? Who would make _you_ captain? Didn't you and Rukia get in trouble for running off to Hueco Mundo?"

"Hey, good ol' Taichou stood up for us!" Renji protested. "After all, we did a lot of the fighting there! And won!" He grinned mischievously. "Besides, if Shuuhei got promoted, then no doubt I'd be, too."

"Pfft," Ichigo retorted, rolling his eyes. "We'll see about that, Aka-Pine."

"How the hell do you know about that nickname?"

"Anyway, what are you even doing here?" the substitute shinigami asked, changing the subject without even a flinch at Renji's vocal volume. "No immediate danger, no Hollows, no score to settle with you... so, what the fuck?"

The tattooed shinigami composed himself, his face now showing a bit of concern. "I came here right away just to let all of you know." He cleared his throat. "It seems they found an Espada..." he explained reluctantly. "He was inside the Dangai. Some shinigami were doing a routine check-up on it when they found him lying on the ground."

_Great. Just great._

"And that's no immediate danger, Renji? That's a fucking Arrancar!"

"Oi, calm down! I'm not done!" Renji hollered, his volume reaching Ichigo's. "He ain't even a Hollow anymore!"

"Huh?"

"He's like what me and Rukia are: a Plus. He also has amnesia."

Despite the information, Ichigo still felt ill about this revelation. "Who is it?" he asked slowly.

"Dunno," Renji admitted, much to the other shinigami's chagrin. "I only overheard Taichou discussing it with Hitsugaya-taichou. I really wanted to listen to them, because it's not every day you see those two talking-"

"Spare me the gossip," Ichigo retorted, too fired up about the thought of an Espada being alive to listen calmly. "So you know for sure that an Espada was found there?"

"My captain wouldn't make up shit like this."

"... I'm gonna see Urahara."

A puzzled, pregnant pause, and then: "Eh?" Renji exclaimed, understanding what he meant. "You're just gonna drop everything and go to Soul Society?"

Ichigo shrugged. "It's a Friday. I'll be fine."

Renji pointed a shaking finger at him. "You can't just invite yourself over to Seireitei!" The vice-captain froze suddenly, sensing something nearby. "Oi! Be lucky that a Hollow's around! Otherwise, I would've stopped you! With force!"

"I was instrumental in the Winter War, you bastard!" the doctor's son boasted. "I don't think that grandpa captain would mind if I made a visit."

"But _I'd_ be in less trouble if I made you come with me to kill the Hollow that's probably making its way over here!"

"Wouldn't you be in trouble anyway for telling me about the Espada?"

Renji clenched his teeth with peevishness, grinding out a, "You little-" until his words were halted by Ichigo's sudden spin of the heel in the opposite direction, to Urahara's shop. The crimson-haired shinigami had to settle with just boring his dark, beady orbs into the human teen's back.

"Have fun," Ichigo called carelessly, his apathetic wave almost mocking him.

Renji's eye twitched. "Funny. The stronger he becomes, the worse his attitude gets..." he mumbled bitterly to himself.

\- { - } -

"Hmm," Orihime found herself verbalizing as she trudged up the stairs to her apartment. There was something funny in the air. She wanted to assume that there were shinigami in Karakura Town, but there wasn't a reason for them to be there, right?

 _I thought everything was resolved,_ she thought, digging through her bookbag for her keys. _Maybe I'm just imagining that someone else was-_

The door suddenly burst open. Orihime let out a little scream, jumping back. She held her bookbag in front of her face, as if it could shield her from the foreboding danger waiting at her doorway.

"Konbanwa," a calm, womanly voice greeted her in a sing-song voice. "Orihime-chan."

_Oh, so that was it._

Slowly, she lowered her layer of defense, and found a familiar face looking down at her, amused. "Rangiku-san!" she exclaimed in genuine surprise.

The strawberry-blonde gave her a small smile and let the human girl in. "Sorry about the intrusion, but Hitsugaya-taichou and I have something... interesting to discuss with you. He's already waiting inside."

Orihime was completely dumbfounded, rendered still as she registered the words in her head. "... Eh?"

What did they want with _her_? The high school student wasn't sure if it had anything to do with her stay with the Arrancars. That would be the only reason she would have this much attention from anyone in the Soul Society. Next to Rukia and Ichigo, she was quite unremarkable.

The redhead rushed her feet out of her shoes and stepped into her apartment, tilting her head slightly as she searched for the young captain's presence. And like Rangiku said, Toushiro was already sitting at her table, crosslegged and clearly impatient.

She and the ample-chested shinigami took their seats at the table.

"Uh..." Orihime wondered, putting a finger to her lips. "Did both of you need to be here just to talk?"

"No," Toushiro grumbled. He hitched an accusing thumb at Rangiku. " _She_ came along just to eat." He shot an annoyed glare at her.

"I missed your cooking, Orihime-chan," the voluptuous lieutenant said in pouty defense.

"I'll make sure I make something for both of you."

"Please don't," the captain bemoaned, hanging his head with a heavy sigh. Beside him, Rangiku clapped her hands together with mild excitement, completely unaware of the cringing reaction from her superior.

"Orihime-chan's so hospitable!"

"Anyway, I'll get to the point," the icy-haired captain began without any further pleasantries. "We found someone outside of Soul Society. We don't know how or why he appeared the way he did." He watched her face carefully.

Orihime didn't react quite yet. She only nodded, prodding him to go on.

"He asked about a redheaded girl with gray eyes, blue pins, and a shield. He didn't remember anything else. Not yet, anyway." Toushiro looked pointedly at Orihime. "But none of us needed a brain to figure out who he was talking about."

"Onii-chan?" Orihime gasped. Her eyes widened with disbelief. She knew how rare it was to find those she lost within the vast metropolis of Soul Society, so the idea of discovering her brother there was unbelievable. "Was it-"

"No," the lieutenant said, much to the human girl's disappointment. Orihime realized that neither of them would have known who he was, anyway. Rangiku glanced at Hitsugaya before continuing on. "Based on Kurosaki's and Ishida's reports after the war, we were able to identify him."

She hesitated, and Orihime caught this. Now she was more curious than ever of who could know her in the Soul Society other than some members of the Gotei 13. "Who is it, then?" she asked.

Toushiro scowled as he let the name leave his lips. "Ulquiorra Cifer."

 


	3. Letters from the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Espada?" he echoed, horrified. "Inoue-san went to see an _Espada_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Stockholm Syndrome" by Muse; "Letters from the Sky" by Civil Twilight; "Vulnerable" by Roxette

 

_\- { redemption } -_

 

Orihime practically sprinted to Urahara Shouten. She didn't make time to do anything else as soon as she got the news from Toushiro and Rangiku, who got caught up in some Hollow-related business in the middle of their visit. They opted to stay behind and let her go on ahead via Urahara Kisuke.

They probably thought she was crazy for doing this so zealously, but needless to say, it _was_ strange. She had been prepared on having Ulquiorra becoming no more than a memory from Hueco Mundo, but as soon as his name left Toushiro's lips, her heart soared with hope.

She decided that she needed to see him. She just _had_ to.

 _Ulquiorra..._ she thought, suddenly recalling the Espada in the bat-like release form she remembered last, the demonic form that didn't frighten her at the very least; not in the way her very own object of her affections did.

_Ulquiorra's not dead!_

Desperation was growing within her; she didn't even realize until she discovered how out of breath she was when she arrived at the store, keeling over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath. The hammering thumps in her chest weren't from the hard run alone.

However, she didn't want to ask herself why. She didn't want to think too much about what anything meant. She just wanted to _do_ ; see things for herself.

"Orihime-chan," called a merry masculine voice.

She straightened, her eyes immediately landing on the shop owner, who was already outside, fanning himself although it was reasonably cool that night.

He was expecting her.

"I take it you've heard," Kisuke told her, a mysterious expression on his face. How he had already received the news, she didn't know, but that wasn't important. "The Cuatro Espada has been discovered. Are you sure you're willing to look into the eyes of the man who captured you?"

Orihime suddenly recalled the abysmal emerald orbs, staring into her; sometimes haughty, sometimes innocently curious, but always beautifully consuming. Unbeknownst to her, a blush crept up her face.

"H-Hai..." Realizing how distracted she sounded, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Hai, I need to see him, please!"

"How interesting..." Kisuke said, briefly observing her with intrigue.

"Please, Urahara-san," she replied, bowing deeply.

Understanding her intention, Kisuke smiled in an oddly apologetic manner. "Of course, if you're that sure." He lowered his head, the green and white striped hat hiding his face further. "It's the least I can do for you, Orihime-chan."

"Hm?" She blinked in confusion.

"About back then," he reminded her, "when I told you that you couldn't fight. If it hadn't been for that, you might've not-"

She waved in front of him dismissively. "Don't worry, about that, Urahara-san. I'm over that. I completely forgot about it."

It was a lie, but she was sort of in a hurry.

"In either case, I was wrong about you," he said mystically. "We all were."

Her face was a giant question mark, but he didn't continue. Instead, he motioned with his fan toward the store. "Come! We can't waste anymore time."

\- { - } -

What Orihime didn't realize, as she followed Kisuke under the store, was that Ichigo was already there, about to hop into a portal of his own, clad in his black shinigami attire and everything. "Inoue?" he acknowledged in surprise.

"K-Kurosaki-kun..." she stumbled, a little dismayed that she wasn't alone. But now that a gateway was already open, it would be less of a hassle for her to get to Soul Society.

Ichigo gave her a wary look. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I..." she shot a quick glance at Kisuke and then back to her nakama. She was no good at making excuses. "I just really, really, really wanted to see... Kuchiki-san?" She mentally kicked herself for not sounding more sure of herself.

"She'll be back in a few days... you can't wait?"

Thank goodness that he was such a dense person sometimes.

"Uh... I could ask you the same question!" she challenged, putting her hands on her hips. "Why are _you_ going? There's a Hollow-"

"Renji's around," Ichigo said simply. "I'm sure he's got it."

_Shoot._

"Anyway, some Arrancar didn't go to Hell like he was supposed to," Ichigo explained, his tone sour. "I'm taking the liberty of seeing what's up with that crap."

Orihime bit her lip from saying anything in defense. She would only be coerced to stay in Karakura and out of the situation. "R-Really...?" she managed to get out.

"Yeah, but anyway," he said, his voice trailing off. He smiled at her and held out his hand. "Ready?"

Her eyes shifted from his face to his hand, lifting one of her own to securely grab his.

"Off we go!"

Should she feel bad that she felt nothing with Ichigo's touch? That she found her thoughts drifting to another person?

All she could feel through her fingers were ashes.

\- { - } -

The trip to Soul Society was no longer haphazard and unpredictable, like when they had arrived in Seireitei to rescue Rukia. So for Orihime and Ichigo, the travel went by without a hitch; they arrived safely on the other side at the proper gateway.

But surprisingly, there was someone waiting for them.

"Hanatarou..." Ichigo slowly muttered in stunned recognition. He clearly didn't expect the seventh seat of the Fourth Squad to be standing in front of the gate entrance.

"Kurosaki-san," he said cheerfully in his usual docile tone. "It has been a while." He swiveled his head to face Orihime. "Hello, Inoue-san. You're right on time." he spoke up. "Please follow me. Unohana-taichou is waiting."

"Hold on a sec," Ichigo interjected, holding up a hand to halt the two. He looked irritably puzzled as he looked from his human companion to Hanatarou. "What the hell is going on?" he asked them. "Inoue, did he know you were coming?"

The black-haired shinigami blinked. "Oh, Inoue-san didn't tell you?"

Orihime didn't want to give herself away, so she jumped onto the answer before her fellow healer could. "Aaah, I wanted to talk to Unohana-san as well," she lied, giving Ichigo an uneasy smile.

The orange-haired boy scratched his head, looking doubtful. "... Really? What fo-"

"Uwaaa! Mochi cakes with leeks!" Orihime suddenly yelled out, pointing somewhere beyond Ichigo's head.

"..."

It made no sense, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

However, at Ichigo's raised eyebrow and apprehensive expression, she sighed. Time for Plan B.

Not catching on to what she was doing, Hanatarou raised both eyebrows, ready to explain things more truthfully than she did. "Well, Kuro—iyaaa!"

She suddenly grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him away, breaking into a nervous sprint. "We can't keep her waiting!" she exclaimed quickly. She waved back to Ichigo grandly.

Automatically, he began to raise his arm to wave back, but then stopped, frowning warily. "Wait a second, Inoue! What are-!"

"I'll meet you back here, Kurosaki-kun!" she called cheerfully, already several feet away.

Unable to stop her, Ichigo watched, flabbergasted, as the two disappared in the distance.

Was he missing something? Because he didn't get it. Not at all.

\- { - } -

"I-I-Inoue-san!" Hanatarou called out frantically, helplessly following after the teenage girl as she sprinted through Seireitei. Where she got this energy, he didn't know, but they've been at it for fifteen minutes already! He was getting exhausted! At this rate, Ichigo was long out of range.

"Can you please slow down?" he tried again. Seeing that she wasn't listening, he frowned and then spoke up more loudly. "Y-You don't even know where our barracks are!"

That got her attention. But stopping so abruptly caused the smaller Hanatarou to slam into her back and subsequently fall backward, crashing to the ground.

"Oh, yeah..." Orihime murmured, blinking as if she only now understood. She didn't notice the collision of the Fourth Division member at all. Turning around, she found her companion lying on the ground, in mild pain. "What happened?" she asked cluelessly, squatting down at his feet. "Are you okay, Yamada-san?"

Hanatarou sat up slowly, rubbing his lower backside. "Don't worry about me, Inoue-san." He smiled awkwardly. He pointed at a direction northwest of their position. "Anyway, let's start walking that way. We're about ten minutes off."

Her eyes followed his pointing finger, to the set of Fourth Division buildings in the distance. Her heart suddenly began to resound in her ears, beating powerfully with anticipation.

_Almost there._

\- { - } -

After the Hollows have been taken care of easily, Rangiku found herself in the company of her captain Toushiro, Renji, and interestingly, Uryuu, whose home had been near the site of manifestation. They were sitting on the roof of the student's home, relaxing after a simple, but tedious fight with a chain of 3 low-classed Hollows.

It was an unusual sight: a Quincy hanging out with not one, but three shinigami. But after the Winter War, and despite the opposing beliefs in regards to Hollows, Uryuu couldn't seem to get away from anything involved with the Soul Society, especially with Ichigo and Rukia being his comrades. He even befriended Renji. After all, the two of them were stuck fighting together for a time in Hueco Mundo.

Thus, he resigned to letting the shinigami be.

But of course, he would race to finish off whatever Hollow he came upon before it could fall into the grasp of his historically sworn rivals. Rangiku noticed this right away when he showed up on the scene, but if he didn't interfere with them and their fights, she wouldn't interfere with his.

"Inoue-san really went to Soul Society? Kurosaki, too?" Uryuu asked, after the shinigami explained all of their reasons for being in the living world. He was lying down against the roof tiles, staring at the stars.

Toushiro, who was sitting with one foot sprawl out and the other folded in, shrugged. "Inoue really wanted to see..." he turned to his lieutenant, and then to Renji, not sure if he should reveal to what her purpose was.

"The Espada," Rangiku said, without missing a beat. She wasn't going to keep it a secret from any of Orihime's nakama. She remembered the way she reacted...

. .

_Orihime's jaw dropped. Her eyes were like saucers as she gawked at the two shinigami like they each had two heads._

_"Orihime-chan?" Rangiku called to her in concern. "Are you all right?"_

_Finally roused out of whatever was going on in her head, she shook her head, but then stuttered, "N-No, I'm fine. I-I just—just... he's alive?"_

_Toushiro nodded. "But if you don't want to see your captor, then _—_ "_

_"No!" the healer shouted, cutting the young captain off. Both Tenth Division members stared at her in confusion._

_And then, finally registering the information, a smile spread across her face. She put a hand on her heart, like she was trying to calm it. Rangiku noticed, most intriguingly, that she had a look of resolve. "I'm... happy that he's okay," the girl told them, her eyes glistening with tears of an emotion the vice-captain didn't quite understand. Was it happiness? Alleviation?_

_Toushiro raised an eyebrow at her. "You... are?"_

_Orihime nodded, now elated at the thought of seeing Ulquiorra. "I just felt a huge weight being lifted off my chest!"_

_Bounce._

_The only male of the group gritted his teeth, trying not to think about the horrendously obvious joke behind the redhead's words. "You mean shoulders!" he corrected her irately. "The expression is shoulders!"_

_"Oh... but isn't chest right, too?..."_

_"Anyway," Rangiku spoke up, tilting her head curiously. "Orihime-chan, are you saying you..._ want _to see Ulquiorra Cifer?"_

_Orihime giggled to herself, secretively. "Yeah."_

_The wavy-haired woman blinked with surprise. That look in the teenage girl's eyes was reminiscent of the one she had seen when Orihime thought about Kurosaki Ichigo, but while similar... this expression wasn't exactly the same._

_It had something more light-hearted. More hopeful._

_Just what was Orihime expecting out of Ulquiorra Cifer?_

. .

Uryuu snapped his dark blue orbs over to Rangiku. "Espada?" he echoed, horrified. "Inoue-san went to see an _Espada_? We killed them all!"

"Not entirely true, Ishida," Renji piped up from the end of their little row. He was sprawled out on the roof. "One was resurrected as a Plus." He rolled his head toward Toushiro and Rangiku. "And it's the Cuatro one, am I right?"

Both nodded.

"That's _—_ " Uryuu's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "That's the guy who _took_ her. Why would she willingly see him?" He then paused. "... Wait. That's also the one who Kuchiki-san believed Inoue-san got attached to..."

Toushiro frowned, and then let his eyes fall to his feet. "Attached?" he asked in a mutely wilted tone. Rangiku could tell that it reminded him of Hinamori Momo's attachment to Aizen Sousuke, something that had been gradually dimming since the last part of the war, but had yet to be completely resolved.

Uryuu took off his glasses to clean them, blowing hot air on each lens and wiping them with the hem of his sleeve. "Kurosaki and I watched this weird exchange between them before he died," he explained curtly. "He asked if she was scared. She answered negatively, and reached out for him just as he did for her. But then..." Uryuu stared at his glasses musingly. "He turned into ashes." He put them on again and sighed. "Even when she was healing me, I noticed that she seemed sort of, I don't know, broken. At the time, I thought it was because Kurosaki's new Hollow release form frightened her. But now, I'm not so sure."

Renji let out a low whistle. "You almost made it seem like she fell in love with him."

The Quincy grunted in dread. "I hope not."

Rangiku again recalled how Orihime had reacted when Toushiro gave her the news. She wasn't sure herself if what Orihime felt for the former Arrancar was love, but given the mystery behind Ulquiorra's appearance in Soul Society, there were a few conclusions she could come to.

"Do you think," she spoke up quietly, "that what Orihime-chan did... attributed to Ulquiorra Cifer's resurrection?"

Toushiro let out a long breath. "I'm sure it's been thought of, Matsumoto."

"But now there's motive."

The white-haired captain shot her a look. "Well, what are we going to do about it? We can't hand over either Ulquiorra or Inoue to the research department."

"Especially when Kurotsuchi's methods are more than questionable," Uryuu added, scoffing with disgust. "Ulquiorra, I don't care about, but we wouldn't dare involve Inoue-san with that man. We don't even trust _Urahara_ with her, to an extent."

Rangiku tilted her head upward, to the moon. It was in a crescent phase, the curve thick like the one in Hueco Mundo. How funny. Orihime should have been glad to be rid of everything Las Noches after the end of the war, only to now seek a fragment of it so earnestly. "She's happy now, I think. Because of him."

She immediately felt Uryuu's narrowed blue eyes on her, hot with hateful disapproval. "I hope you're not referring to that Espada," he said in an even voice.

She let out a short chuckle. So defensive! "I'm definitely referring to him." She left her words at that, leaving Uryuu miffed and ponderous.

 _Who knows,_ she mused. _Maybe it'll turn out better than her unrequited love for Kurosaki Ichigo._ Rangiku couldn't help but root for the red-haired girl. After all, she has had her share of bad guys, too.

\- { - } -

Hanatarou led Orihime through the Fourth Division barracks. Unlike other divisions she has seen, she found that there was a lot of hustle and bustle here. She was constantly on her toes, as shinigami under this division are likely to crash into her. Her guide in front of her seemed unfazed, obviously used to the chaotic environment.

The barracks were much larger than she thought they would be. She almost expected a one-room, dojo type of setting, but the Fourth Division barracks was more similar to a manor. If Hanatarou hadn't been with her, she would've been completely lost.

"Sorry for such a long walk," Hanatarou apologized in the midst of their venture. "The Espada-san needed to be roomed in a more tedious place so they would be less likely be found."

Orihime shook her head, her eyes darting around as they took in the plain, but interesting surroundings. "I understand comple—wait." She frowned at the shinigami. "They?"

"Ah," Hanatarou piped up abruptly, eyes bright with realization. "That's right. Hitsugaya-taichou left before he received the news." He craned his neck to look back at her. "Another Espada-san was found in the tenth district in southern Rukongai. He said he has been traveling all the way from the forty-second!"

Orihime gaped in wonder. "But why?"

"I think Unohana-taichou mentioned something about their reiatsu. The properties of them are different from ours," Hanatarou explained. "They would be able to find each other. But in the second Espada-san's case, he began working his way in before being the right range to actually sense Cifer-san."

"Um," she began contemplatively, "is it like my being able to smell Kurosaki-kun when he's nearby?"

"What?" He blinked. "Uh... like a dog?"

The girl nodded, in all seriousness. She was not too aware of her quirky habits. "I know his scent; it's so unique to me that I never had trouble finding him or telling his smell apart from-" Orihime stopped talking unexpectedly, suddenly finding it strange to be talking about Ichigo in this manner again.

It didn't feel right anymore.

 _Weird..._ she thought. Her heart didn't thump as hard as it used to, nor did her face flush as crimson.

_It's not because of Ulquiorra, is it?_

She never saw herself as in love with the Arrancar. Her longing for him was different. She was more of a caretaker yearning for his happiness; not so much a lover desiring his affection. Nonetheless, she wasn't going to lie; Ulquiorra did play a large role in helping lessen her inrequited feelings for Ichigo.

But still, she should have hated the Cuatro Espada. So much had happened between the two of them; more bad than good.

"Inoue-san?" called Hanatarou, waving a hand in front of her. "Are you okay?"

Orihime drew in a sharp breath, all of a sudden back in reality. "Um... yeah..." she said weakly. "Sorry."

"You stopped in the middle of a sentence..."

"Oh, I just..." Orihime faltered. She didn't really want to lay out all the sordid details to Hanatarou. He knew very little about her to begin with when it came to her love life. They were barely friends; more like acquaintances, really. "... I just forgot what I was going to say!" she lied, expression deceptively radiant. "So excited about seeing Ulquiorra-san, you know?"

Hanatarou nodded slowly with uncertainty. "Ah, is that so? But... isn't he the one who took you hostage, Inoue-san?" He looked very much confused, and Orihime didn't blame him. She herself was sort of in mental disarray.

She only meant to stay long enough to reassure herself that Ulquiorra was all right. Hell, she didn't even _need_ to see him face-to-face; his amnesia notwithstanding. The news from Toushiro back in her apartment should have been sound enough. Ulquiorra wasn't in Hell, and his change of beliefs were no longer in vain. Her trip here should have been only to help his memories along, and nothing more.

So then, why the heart palpitations when the white-haired captain said his name? She never gave a second thought about Toushiro and Rangiku's request for her to come to Soul Society. Orihime had decided, without hesitation, that yes, she was definitely going.

So maybe it wasn't _just_ to be a tool for his mental recovery...

"Yes," she admitted, finally answering Hanatarou's question. "He was."

Maybe she wanted to be there for him, even when everything turned against him.

Before she could ramble on further in her head, Orihime and Hanatarou heard the footfalls of someone padding up to them from behind. The shinigami was the first to turn his head. Whoever it was made his eyes light up with recognition.

"Ah, Cifer-san!" he chirped. "You're awake!"

Orihime found herself paralyzed at the sound of his name, her eyes round with astounded anxiety. Her mouth dry with speechless anticipation. All she could hear was her heart, pounding away like a hammer.

_Ulquiorra..._

Hanatarou had been right about his reiatsu. It wasn't anything like any of the shinigami's she's ever felt; nor was it similar to Ichigo's or her other nakamas'. While the presence of Plus quality was still there, something else laced around it. Traces of Hollow-like spiritual pressure, maybe?

"It's her..." she heard him reply, marveled by her presence. She heard him take another step closer.

She brought a clammy hand up to her chest, clutching a fistful of clothing over it as if she was clutching her heart itself. She never thought she would hear that voice again; rich, succinct, and impersonal, but still slick like marble.

"Inoue Orihime."

She gasped softly. She wasn't used to hearing her name on those lips. Orihime realized that she was almost too afraid to turn around, fearing that he might disappear again; that she would reach for him but be centimeters too late.

But she made it this far. She wasn't going to turn her back. Not on _him._

Cautiously, she moved her foot back, pivoting around to face the person she has been dreaming and thinking about for what seemed like forever.

In an instant, her silver-gray eyes met his, the crystallic emerald greens she remembered seizing her full attention, even when he didn't say anything.

Everything seemed to stop for a moment. It felt so surreal, that for a second, she thought she was back in the past, at the dome at Las Noches. Orihime drank in his appearance, as if he were a dream she was trying not to wake up from; like she needed to remember every detail of him.

He looked as attractive as he always did (although it wasn't something she thought _too_ much about as a hostage), with his large green eyes and his sharp facial features. Unlike his Hollow self, his skin wasn't an unnatural ivory white, but was still very pale in comparison to both her and Hanatarou. Ulquiorra was also quite lean, more so than Ichigo, albeit still muscular. The yukata he wore fit him loosely, more casually; so unlike the closed-off uniform he wore as Espada.

He no longer had the odd, teal tear streaks racing down his cheeks. However, in their place were faint, twin scars of a similar fashion. He seemed a little more intimidating that way, but she liked that it was unmistakably _him_.

 _Ulquiorra; el que llora_ , she thought absently, with hazy fondness. She remembered asking Mexican-raised Yasutora about his name once. _The one who cries._

He just couldn't get away from some parts of him, could he?

Orihime realized that Ulquiorra had been scanning his eyes over her in pretty much the same manner, although she couldn't imagine why. Next to him, she felt much _wider_ and _uglier._ She felt more like a barnyard animal than a porcelain doll.

"You look surprisingly good," Ulquiorra said, his tone not as hollow as she remembered. He still seemed a bit entranced.

Her jaw went slack at his words.

Orihime then had to remind herself that he had amnesia; he wouldn't have known that he usually put up a rigidly tense front. His slip of familiar words was probably accidental.

"I mean, you look much better in reality than in my head," he corrected himself with a blink, just in case he offended her.

"Um... thank you," Orihime managed to reply without tripping on her words. Her face reddened slightly. _This Ulquiorra is nicer._

But contrarily, she was so accustomed to his quiet rudeness to the point that she somewhat missed it.

_I wonder if that makes me crazy._

"Well," he spoke up, "I should show you to my room." He looked toward the end of the hallway, probably where his room was. "We obviously have much to discuss."

"I'll... I'll take my leave, then!" Hanatarou announced, not wanting to intrude now that the two have reunited. He scurried back from whence he and Orihime came.

Ulquiorra shoved his hands into the pockets of his yukata. "Come," he said to Orihime. He didn't want to beat around the bush, she gathered.

"H-Hai..." Her eyes trailed after him as he led the way, realizing that she was smiling as she did so. His regal posture remained more or less the same, whether he was aware of it or not. She definitely recalled the way he always had his hands hidden in his hakama.

This sense of familiarity was refreshing.

But perhaps she was still crazy.

She followed him into a bedroom deep within the labyrinth of the Fourth Division. His room was tiny, only able to fit a closet, a one-person-sized futon, and a black low table with two cushions beside it. There was a window across from the sliding door, revealing a view of a courtyard of some sort.

Ulquiorra motioned toward one floor cushion, indicating her to sit. She complied. He followed suit, seating himself on the same side of the table, facing her. It was then Orihime noticed how close their legs were to each other.

She tried not to let that make her nervous.

"I was hoping that merely seeing you would be enough," he said, his voice showing a hint of disappointment. "But it appears that there is something more significant about you that I should know about." His eyes drifted from her face in thought before he glanced at her again. "Maybe you can tell me some things."

She made an uncomfortable expression, but either way, she felt bad for him. Ulquiorra's mind was probably brimming with questions. If she were him, she wouldn't know where to begin.

"Obviously, we had some sort of rapport," Ulquiorra began. "What were we to each other?"

Her eyes darkened ever so slightly. "Hm..." She ducked her head. "... that's complicated..." She immediately realized that it would be a bad idea to tell Ulquiorra everything right away. Especially when the environment was full of such despair, when he was now part of a community that despised who he once was, and when he was still taking in his surroundings and learning to live. How would he take it? Not as Cuatro Espada Ulquiorra, but as Ulquiorra the Memory-less?

"Is that so?" he muttered thoughtfully. "Well, whatever it was..."

She peered at him expectantly.

He offered a barely there, but unmistakable smile. "I'm sure the real me didn't mean to hurt you."

She suddenly blushed, unable to do anything else but stammer, "I-It's not that, Ulq-quiorra-san, but..." There was a long pause on her part, "I'll tell you when you're adjusted."

_But if he only knew._

Despite her reassurance and guarantees, she could tell from the frown on his face that they weren't helping his situation.

_How am I going to get through this...?_

\- { - } -

Something odd has been happening in Soul Society.

Because there are 320 districts in Rukongai, sprawled out in all directions surrounding Seireitei, it would normally be quite difficult finding a familiar face, especially if they were Hollows who were lucky enough to cross over into this realm.

However, a second Espada has been discovered just as the Tenth Division captain and lieutenant left; followed by a third that was about to be reported by Kotetsu Isane, lieutenant of the Fourth Squad. That is, if the former Espada didn't get to the captain-commander first. Tired of being seen as a leper, the latest of the "reborn" Arrancar took it upon herself to see Genryuusai.

 _Tia Harribel_ , Isane thought as she rushed through the middle Soul Society district, _you are going to get yourself jailed and killed..._

Since the ex-Hollows were once granted power from the Hougyoku, lingering side effects have been crossed over along with their souls. As a result, their spiritual pressures stuck out like sore thumbs and contained unique properties that differed from say, the reiatsu of a ranked shinigami's or of a human like Inoue Orihime.

It was painfully obvious to the Gotei 13, and namely, to the Twelfth Squad researchers, that they did not cross over under normal circumstances. And at least two of them could be attributed to an unexpected event during the war that has yet to be researched. While researchers in Seireitei have been grabby for Inoue Orihime ever since _it_ happened, the group of humans formerly known as the ryouka have openly prohibited any open discussion or experimentation on their red-haired friend.

Although Seireitei business was usually kept within its borders, news of the Espadas' appearance in Soul Society somehow spread throughout Rukongai in the closer districts, the ones that were more aware of the happenings of Seireitei and more conscious of laws and lifestyles. The dichotomy had always been Plus versus Hollow, and thus, knowledge of their "reincarnation" into Soul Society was met with clear antipathy from even the civilians.

Even though the ex-Hollows were Pluses themselves, they were still regarded as the enemies. They were outcasts in their own community. On top of that, they were not quite trusted by the members of the Gotei 13 and their affiliates. The most homely they felt was within the busy, but harmonious barracks of the Fourth Division, a squad that promoted rejuvenation, peace, and love. While many of the lower seated and unranked members remained cautious around them, the captain, Retsu, and her lieutenant, Isane, treated them without judgment.

By the time the vice-captain arrived, Tia was already standing before Genryuusai, who was in the company of Soifon, her lieutenant Omaeda Marechiyo, and Juushiro. Isane opted to stay near the entryway, quietly observing the action in progress.

"Please understand," Tia said stoically, her arms crossed over her chest. "We are what you are. We are _not_ the soldiers Aizen has created us to be."

"Is that supposed to waiver your war crimes?" Genryuusai asked, unamused.

"What war crimes?" she asked with contempt. "I only did what I was made to do: fight the opposition. I _died_ serving for Aizen, but even he betrayed me. My Arrancar life is _dead_. I cannot summon such powers anymore. We are no longer threats. If I had the need to fight, I would need to start all over from scratch, as I am not apt on anything here. The only thing intact from our past lives are our memories."

"Once an Espada, always one! We still feel the trace of Hollow in your reiatsu!" the captain-commander roared, mouth twisted in a sneer. "Be lucky we don't have laws having to do with cases like yours!"

"Yes," Tia agreed begrudgingly. "We are unique cases. But _you_ do not even know why or how we came to this world. You people only spoke of the former captive, Inoue Orihime, but you do not have further information about what she did."

"That is information we agreed to keep under wraps, child," Genryuusai told her. "It is imperative that we leave that behind."

"You decided to leave that entire event unexplained and unresearched?" Tia asked him icily. "How wise, shinigami."

"It was not our decision," Genryuusai admitted with reluctance. "It was the humans and Kuchiki Rukia. Due to their much-needed parts in the war, we agreed to not lay a finger on the girl."

"Why won't they let you?"

"They say it's to protect her. And frankly, with her powers surpassing that damn Visored healer's, it's rather a relief she suppressed her memory of it," he explained gruffly. "I don't care for that girl's emotional state, but we don't want a repeat of before; especially if she doesn't know how to control it."

At this, Tia went silent with puzzled thought.

_What happened after I died?_

Genryuusai's explanations were giving her more questions than answers, but she knew that the elderly shinigami had only so much patience for someone like her.

"That is not the point, however," the captain-commander continued, drawing his words out slowly, as if in watchful disgust at the Plus before him.

Tia scowled, already realizing that whatever the old man was planning, it was going to be far from pleasant or fair. "Jail me all you want," she dared, "but know that these bodies are only capable of so much in this world and probably in any other."

Next to him, Juushiro quietly spoke up. "Soutaichou, if I may add," he began, "I believe the Fourth Division, despite _some_ personal prejudices, agrees that none of the Espada are a danger to any part of Soul Society. There is no need to incarcerate them."

"Then what will we do with them, Ukitake?" Genryuusai countered. Let them wander among civilians? Let them apply to Shinou Academy? What then? They may follow in the footsteps of Aizen, Ichimaru, and Tousen!"

Tia glowered at him. "You don't know that," she snapped. "Do not judge us based solely on the fact that we were once Hollows." Feeling that her arguments were falling on deaf ears, she tsked frustratedly. "Then again, I don't know why I am wasting my time arguing with you."

"You're right about that," Genryuusai grumbled. He spotted Isane at the doorway. "Kotetsu. Take her back."

Tia gladly spun on her heel and left with the lieutenant.

Juushiro watched her exit, a thoughtfully concerned look etching across his normally peaceful features. "Perhaps..." he muttered, sometime after they left, "if you think the Arrancar Pluses to be too much trouble, maybe it would be more beneficial to send them to the living world."

Genryuusai nodded. "Hm. Much like Urahara Kisuke's exile, I assume? You might have somethi-"

All of a sudden, he was cut off by some commotion outside the building. Someone—a male—was yelling, and a low, but feminine voice they recognized as Tia's was countering angrily.

"I should have known someone would tip that human kid off," Genryuusai mumbled under his breath, already recognizing the reiatsu.

"I got it," Soifon sighed, speaking up for the first time since Tia barged in.

Being one of the fastest (if not, _the_ fastest) captains of the Gotei, she flashstepped out, just in time to have her sheathed zanpakutou one-handedly clash horizontally in the middle of Ichigo's vertical swing at Tia, who only stood with wide, but calm shamrock green eyes. Isane, Tia's escort, was not fast enough to intervene, as her hand remained frozen on the hilt of her own sword by the time the Second Division captain arrived.

Onlookers in Seireitei stopped to watch.

"Bow out, Kurosaki!" Soifon yelled testily, not letting up from her grip. "Remember where you are!"

Stubbornly, Ichigo let out a tsk and continued to push against her blade. "What is she doing here?" he rasped. "You're letting Arrancar free to walk around unbound." He shot a look at Isane. "What's your excuse for letting one of Aizen's minions _live_?"

"Don't be so hasty," the Onmitsukidou commander retorted before Isane could speak up for herself. "You're the idiot raising a blade against someone who's unarmed."

It wasn't too long until the captain-commander himself and Juushiro joined them, standing quietly until they felt the need to interfere. Marechiyo followed behind and stayed there, never one to butt in when his captain was in such an irate mood.

"You mean an _Espada_ who's unarmed," Ichigo stormed. "Have you seen what they can do?"

"You're really that stupid," she noted with underwhelmed realization. She gestured with her head behind her, toward Tia. "The woman is a Plus wearing nothing but a purple kimono. She has no marks of an Espada, much less a Hollow. I don't like her any more than you do, but have some damn dignity, Kurosaki Ichigo."

A scowl marred his face, but Soifon could see in his eyes that he was considering.

"Sheathe your weapon, boy," Genryuusai commanded from the sideline. "We haven't decided on their fate... yet."

"Their?" Ichigo repeated, finally moving to re-strap Zangetsu. "How many of these bastards do you have?"

"Three," Isane replied, falling at ease now that the tension was (partially) resolved.

The shinigami present silently turned to her with surprised eyes.

"We have literally _just_ found two more," the lieutenant added.

"Who else?" he demanded.

"That is none of your business," the captain-commander told him, just as Isane opened her mouth to respond. "Go back to your human world and let us handle this."

"They kidnapped one of my nakama," Ichigo declared coldly.

"And you have already exacted your revenge, Kurosaki-san," Juushiro pointed out.

"Then they should be in Hell."

"I do not understand such a simplistic perception of us," Tia countered smoothly, her voice causing heads to look toward her. "Do you not get it, human?" She dared to step closer, showing him that she didn't fear an irrational shinigami like him. "We were redeemed."

Even Genryuusai mulled over her words, but he wasn't going to let Tia off that easily. "Who would redeem the Espada?" he questioned. "Who would pardon you insolent Hollows?"

"I refuse to get into this argument again," Tia said airily. "We both already know the outcome."

Ichigo smirked.

Isane looked troubledly to the ground. This wasn't going to bode well for the resurrected.

"Kotetsu-san," Juushiro said, before another altercation erupted again, "perhaps you should take Harribel-san back to the barracks for now. We still have much to discuss."

Isane bowed. At least _someone_ was a peacemaker around here. "Hai, Ukitake-taichou." She turned her attention to the Espada. "Harribel-san."

Tia nodded mutely and followed.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra—well, that was what everyone called him, anyway—didn't understand why this redhead called Inoue Orihime was so _nervous_ around him. Even upon first meeting her, upon the first glimpse of that silk curtain of orange-red, she stayed guarded, albeit extremely polite.

He guessed he would have to scratch "lover" off the list of who she could possibly be to him. It was a shame, too. The first time she turned around in that hallway to face him left him momentarily stunned. The girl was definitely much better-looking in real life; that face was just so _intriguing_.

Unfortunately, she wasn't going to tell him anything, expecting him to basically guess what his life was like and wonder what everyone meant by Arrancar and Espada.

"Obviously, we had some sort of rapport," he prompted, eyeing the gray-eyed girl before him as they sat facing each other in his room. "What were we to each other?"

"Hm... that's complicated."

He furrowed a brow, slightly irritated. What did that mean? Were they enemies? It couldn't be; she wouldn't be sitting in front of him, otherwise. She would have shouted _Good riddance!_ to the sky at his misfortunes and ill treatment by the others. Then again, Orihime looked like the kind of girl who would have compassion for everyone.

He didn't want to scare her more than he apparently already did, so he tried to smile at her after her mysterious reply. However, some odd mental blockage was keeping him from spreading his lips all the way. _What the...? Does the real Ulquiorra Cifer ever smile? What kind of guy is he?_ "I'm sure the real me didn't mean to hurt you," he consoled.

_Whoever the hell he is..._

Her face reddened as she responded haltingly, "I-It's not that, Ulq-quiorra-san, but..." She paused for a few seconds, as if at odds with herself. "I'll tell you when you're adjusted."

No malice behind her words. _And_ he made her blush. Cross "enemy" off the list, for sure.

Ulquiorra let a frown appear on his face once more as he tried to think for a second. _Something_ must have happened between them, especially when she was so shyly furtive about it.

He had nothing.

Growing frustrated, he asked, "You really can't give me _anything_?"

Inoue Orihime, with those beautiful silver-gray eyes that reminded him of the bright hearth of a comforting home, and that head of striking burnt orange-ish red, stayed silent for a long time. Her sweetly naïve-looking face formed a distant look, contemplating.

He silently pleaded for her cooperation. She was the only remnant of his dormant memory bank left. There was no rhyme or reason for it; he only knew she was definitely the key to its retrieval.

Not only that, he had a feeling that something else about her was... special somehow.

"Ah! Do you..." she finally piped up carefully.

He leaned forward very slightly, prodding her to go on.

"... have..."

Ulquiorra tilted his head downward in a partial nod.

"... an affinity for bats?" she finished innocently.

 _Bats? Is she asking me about_ bats _?_

The dark-haired man tried not to hit his palm against his forehead. He opted to form annoyed fists in his lap instead. _Seriously?_

The girl may be beautiful, but she was also pretty ditz _—_

"More seriously, though," she spoke up again, interrupting his thoughts. She seemed totally unaware of his initial reaction.

She lifted her hand toward him.

He looked down at it curiously. It was halfway turned up, slender fingers reaching for him. His serpentine green eyes traveled upward, surveying her in question.

"I know you don't remember this yet," she began, beaming so kindly that he didn't dare avert his gaze. "But I forgive you, Ulquiorra Cifer-san."

Forgive him? Ulquiorra stared back at her cluelessly, and realized that the smile she radiated had a trace of _amnesty_ in it. So, maybe he shouldn't cross "enemy" off his list, after all?

"I..." she blushed faintly. "... I'm not afraid anymore."

Afraid? What happened?

But nonetheless, something about her gesture stirred within him. Unconsciously, he reached out with his own hand.

"Really..." he found himself murmuring.

Their hands shortly met in a strong, warm grip. It was akin to a handshake, but somehow, this held much more meaning than Ulquiorra understood. There was something devastatingly familiar about this scene...

"You didn't turn into ashes this time," she said, her tone half-joking, half-relieved.

Ashes...

_In a blink, he found himself on a dome of some sort, his hand, white as snow and manicured black, stretching toward a figure in white. His fingers were deteriorating..._

However, another flicker of his eyes brought him back to the present, his hand in hers abruptly clammy. He quirked an eyebrow at them. "... This has happened before?" he asked slowly, his heart thrumming loudly in his head.

"Um... sort of."

He raised his face to her, and _really_ looked at her. She seemed less nervous now. Less scared, in fact.

_"Are you afraid of me, Woman?"_

_His hand was outstretched. His intention was not so much to challenge her, but to challenge himself._

"Did you say something?" Orihime's voice brought him out of yet another sudden vision of sorts. His breath hitched, discovering that while his eyes had been on her the entire time, he hadn't been _seeing_ her. His mind had wandered off to a completely different time.

This was it, wasn't it? This was what would trigger his memories. "What?" he asked her, trying not to sound as stricken as he felt.

"You mouthed something," she told him slightly concerned. She was about to drop her hand from his, but surprisingly, he held on by gently squeezing, preventing her from pulling away. She looked quite startled, as if his action was completely out of character. "Ulquiorra-san, what's wrong?"

"No _—_ "

_" _—_ I'm not afraid."_

_He could see her eyes. The gray orbs of this strong woman, clear with boldness._

_She reached for him, and he understood._

_As their fingers inched closer, he understood_ perfectly _._

_The heart._

_It was right there. Right there. But before he could feel the warmth of her repentence, everything stopped._

He blinked, gasping for breath as if he were drowning. Everything rushed back to him like a tidal wave.

Everything.

"Ulquiorra-san?"

His eyes were now wide with recognition and alarm, realizing that Orihime was shaking him lightly by the shoulders, clearly worried.

Inoue Orihime, the human girl who could reject any event she wished.

"You..." he whispered, trying to gravitate his thoughts back to reality.

She stopped moving to stare quizzically at him.

He only replied to her expression with one word, using his eyes to say the rest.

"Onna."

She gasped, her body jolting ever so slightly at his call. He knew that she recognized the way he addressed her; he knew from the way she gazed at him, ash-hued eyes glistening with shocked relief.

A weird swelling seeped into his chest, slow and thick like honey. Unable to identify it, he quietly cleared his throat and turned away to regain his composure.

 _Shameful,_ he thought, recalling the way he acted as an amnesiac. _Shameful how unbridled my behavior was._ He straightened his posture into something more stiff, and spoke again. "What are you doing here?"

She flinched at his sharp tone. "I... came to see you, of course."

"That was unnecessary."

She lowered her eyes to her hands. "Well... I wanted to know if life was fair."

He was already acquainted with her bouts of illogical blabber about emotions in Hueco Mundo, but this just senseless. Of _course_ life wasn't always fair. But then again, he also knew that many of the things she has boasted about to him were always figurative. To someone as cut-and-dry as him, she spoke like she was alluding to symbols in poetry. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Orihime flushed shamelessly. "I just had to see you."

His gaze remained steady on her, but she couldn't look at him in the eye.

"And now, I see that life was merciful," she continued nonetheless, "because you're right here in front of me."

A silence fell between them. Ulquiorra took this time to consider her words, his head bowing with thought. Indeed, someone had enough mercy on him to repent him; a new creator. But who?

He snuck another glance at Orihime, who was now playing distractedly with her hair, softly mumbling to herself about split-ends; whatever that meant.

 _Was it you, Inoue Orihime?_ He asked silently, only partly understanding why on Earth this woman would even lay her eyes on him again after what he had done. _You, with the power to reject any event? To turn back the hands of time of any area of space you allowed yourself?_

She would be someone who held that much forgiveness toward him. The _only_ one, at that. It had to be her. A part of him just knew. He _f_ _elt_ it. He didn't know the extent of her powers, nor did he care how. But he wanted to believe it, all simply because she had the _heart_ to. Hers was the strongest he had ever seen.

Ulquiorra recalled his last thoughts as Arrancar, and that stupidly simple, but meaningful gesture of reprieve. He had finally found his answer, all too late. A tiny part of him had wished, even in such a hopeless situation, that he had more time to learn from her. He was going to die with only a glimpse of what Orihime saw in others. But somehow, thanks to her, he had all the time in the world.

He exhaled slowly. All of this was making him feel lightheaded, but he wasn't dizzy. He didn't know what it was at all, but it was welcoming and peaceful.

Was this happiness?

"Thank you."

She looked up. "Ul...quiorra-san...?"

A little surprised at her sudden attention, he realized that it was he who let the words slip out. But he wasn't going to make an excuse for it, nor a correction.

It wasn't a mistake.

He found himself reaching out, in order to lay a hand roughly on top of hers in her lap. She didn't move, frozen with utter disbelief. Her cheeks burned with a sheepish shade of red, but that didn't matter to him. He only wanted to confirm something at the moment; to make sense of his beliefs.

And he was right.

The heart was definitely in his hand.

_Thank you._

Just then, the door noisily slid open, killing the moment. He felt Orihime jump and pull away from him. Simultaneously, the both of them turned toward the intruder. The girl, with surprise; the boy, with annoyance.

Without so much as a greeting, a large, muscular figure entered the room, univited. He loomed over their sitting forms, casting an ominous shadow over the two of them.

Next to Ulquiorra, Orihime shrank back very slightly, her eyes wide with trepidation at the newcomer above them. "I-It's..." she stammered, sounding bewildered.

Light blue eyes, now sans the blue marks underneath them, observed them with interest, arms crossed and figure imposing. "Ulquiorra..." he drawled, a dangerous smile spreading across his features. "Ulqui-fuckin'-orra... I've been looking all over Rukongai for your dumb ass."

"So, you're here..." the raven-haired Plus stated flatly."Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

Grimmjow turned his gaze toward Orihime, analyzing her with sneering regard.

The healer, self-conscious of the larger ex-Hollow's unexpected attention on her, averted her eyes to her lap, suddenly much more withdrawn than before.

He gestured at her with his chin. "What's pet princess doing here? She dead? Aizen kill her?"

"No," Ulquiorra answered tonelessly. "Now you can leave."

Ignoring his words, Grimmjow asked Orihime, "What the hell are you doing here, anyway, Woman?"

She flinched at the nickname, although it was interesting that she didn't do so when Ulquiorra addressed her the same way. Then again, he knew for a fact that Orihime had never taken the turquoise-haired Espada too kindly. He had probably frightened her from the beginning, ever since he first violently killed Luppi in front of her eyes. The former Cuatro never found out what _exactly_ happened in regards to Loly and Menoly (and later, when Grimmjow took her to Kurosaki Ichigo), but he was sure that her opinion of him never improved. It might have, in fact, worsened.

If Orihime had brought the volatile Espada back in addition to Ulquiorra himself, then she must not have meant to do so. Ulquiorra couldn't blame her. He was hoping that there no others; he didn't take the company of the other Arrancar too ecstatically. A large part of why he didn't have Fracciones.

"I'm just visiting," she replied quietly, her eyes still fixed downward.

Grimmjow scratched his head. "To see _this guy_?" He pointed at Ulquiorra dubiously. "Why the hell would you wanna visit someone who doesn't give a shit about you _—_ "

"Get out, _Trash_ ," Ulquiorra cut in, subtly glaring at the ex-Sexta. "This is none of your business."

Something about Grimmjow's statement rubbed him the wrong way.

Meanwhile, Orihime flushed, a little taken aback by the blue-eyed man's audacity.

Grimmjow paused for a full three seconds, as if registering both of their reactions. "Ah, so I was wrong?" he finally questioned, an eyebrow arched.

"..."

Snickering, he added, "I didn't know you two had a special relationship. The captor and his captive _princesa_."

"It is nothing of that sort."

He didn't catch the slight wince on Orihime's face as the words left his lips.

Grimmjow smirked, already switching his attention to other things he had in mind. "Ya know, if we were back at Las Noches, I would've beaten the _shit_ out of your skinny little ass. And now that we're here..."

_Where did that come from?_

Nevertheless, Ulquiorra snorted in reply. He wasn't threatened by someone who was once ranked lower than him. If Grimmjow hadn't taken the easy way out of their fight by sticking the Caja Negacion in his Hollow hole, Ulquiorra would have had him cleanly disintegrated via his Cero.

 _Now, he apparently resorts to hand-to-hand combat_ , Ulquiorra noted dully. _Perhaps this fool has not changed, after all._

 _"_ If you consider yourself victorious by cheaply using the Caja Negacion, then I suppose you would have beaten me," he calmly replied, unmoving. "Otherwise, you would not have stood a chance."

Grimmjow growled at him. "You little _—_! You know what?" He pulled back one of the sleeves of his dark red yukata, flexing his biceps at the two of them. "See these fucking guns? I can take you _now_!" He smirked. "Let's go!"

Ulquiorra remained impassive. "No."

"Yeah, 'cause you know I could murder you in a fistfight!" Grimmjow cackled madly as he cracked his knuckles.

"Grimmjow, I hope you are not planning on doing anything of that kind," came a tough, feminine voice. "We must not abuse our stay here. We are already treading on thinning ground."

A figure came up behind Grimmjow at the doorway.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened a small degree. He knew that voice.

"Be lucky that the Fourth Division has enough power in Soul Society to keep us from being jailed," she continued. "For the time being, that is."

Grimmjow tossed an annoyed look over his shoulder and lowered his arms, recognizing the owner of the voice immediately. "Knew I smelled another fucked up reiatsu in the air."

" _Smell_ reiatsu?" Tia Harribel echoed slowly, revealing herself as she, too, joined Ulquiorra and Orihime in the former's room. She didn't seem fazed by the presence of Espada other than herself. It was likely that she was informed beforehand.

On the other hand, the redhead could only gape mutely at her appearance. Not one, but three former Espada were in the same room together, after all.

"What?" Grimmjow raged. "Look, bitch, you can't tell me what to do or say! You ain't the Tres Espada anymore! You're no longer ranked above me!"

"And you no longer have the right to pick fights with others," she chastised sedately, her attitude contrasting drastically with Grimmjow's fiery tantrum. "We are not soldiers, Grimmjow. We are the lowest class under everyone's eyes, seen as criminals. Accept it. It is not fair, but until I can make Yamamoto Genryuusai change his mind, accept it." She shot Ulquiorra a look. "All of us."

At that moment, Ulquiorra discovered that he was actually a bit relieved of Tia being there. She was telling things to Grimmjow that _he_ wanted to say, but lacked her unwavering patience. He could also tell that Tia must have given herself time to think about their current situation, and as honorable and dignified as she was, surrendered to being a helpless soul in this world, as she was no longer a Hollow warrior with extraordinary powers given to them by the Hougyoku.

"Hell no!" Grimmjow retorted in defiance. "You _—_ "

"We shouldn't be bickering," Tia told him. She closed her eyes in resignation. "If anything, we must stick together, because that is all we have. We're shunned by society; we don't understand humanistic culture yet; and the few humans we are acquainted with don't trust us, save for Inoue Orihime, I assume, since she is here willingly."

Orihime, surprised that Tia even mentioned her at all, shifted uncomfortably as she observed the exchange.

"All I know is that humans, as well as Pluses, are social creatures," the blonde added. "Ultimately, they cannot fully function alone; mentally nor physically."

As if seeing his own powerlessness for the first time, Grimmjow's ego deflated. He hung his head in annoyed chagrin, like he realized that he was no longer king of his group of Hollows, or however that story went. Ulquiorra had only partially listened his drivel.

Now, this Grimmjow seemed much less menacing. Sure, he still tended to taunt others (Ulquiorra himself, in particular) rather than just having pure conversations, but he lacked that chaotically bloodthirsty need to seek dominance over anyone he saw as a challenge.

"I know how brash you are, Grimmjow," Tia said, studying the turquoise-haired man. "But for once, think of who you are dealing with. We can't have you ruining our reputation any more than _—_ "

"Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time, Blondie," Grimmjow snapped. He glared at her. "And I do _not_ ruin our reputations."

"... I am inclined to disagree."

"Shut up, Ulquiorra!"

Grimmjow was going to shower him with more insults, when another person made herself known, rapping against the wall next to the open sliding door.

Ulquiorra was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with having so many people in his personal quarters.

"Unohana-dono," Orihime addressed in surprise. She pulled herself to her feet to bow politely.

The captain nodded in response. "Was it a success, Inoue-san?" she asked softly. "Does he remember?" She cast a glimpse at Ulquiorra.

"Hai," the human girl replied as he nodded slightly.

She smiled softly. "Good. This will make seeing Yamamoto-soutaichou much easier. Come now, everyone."

Orihime's smile dropped. "Eh? So soon?" She stole a glance at Ulquiorra, as if reluctant to part with him.

 _Of course,_ he thought logically. _It means she would leave. Her duty has been fulfilled._ Her life was in the human world. His life was possibly full of enclosed spaces and small windows in Soul Society. Therefore, her departure didn't need to bother him, even if he found something disagreeable about it.

It also shouldn't bother _her_ , and yet, there was a bit of fear in her wide pools of gray.

But he was her captor. Why was she afraid for his sake?

Curious green orbs fell on her face, absently tracing over every expressive feature. _This strange woman..._ he thought.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at the captain. "Oh? The geezer wants us already?"

"The original plan was to wait for Cifer-san to recover, but Yamamoto-soutaichou got impatient," she explained. "However, I see now that has been taken care of quite efficiently."

"That was fast," Tia said as her lips formed into a slight frown. "I assume he will decide our fates, then?"

"Better now than later," Retsu replied truthfully, "before he takes too much time mulling it over."

Orihime stepped forward, a nervous fist against her chest. "Um... Unohana-dono-"

The squad captain raised a hand to calmly silence her and offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry," she said. "Nothing bad will happen to them."

As if it was an answer to unasked questions, Grimmjow heaved a sigh of relief, his shoulders hunching. Near him, Tia briefly shut her eyes, seeming more at ease.

Ulquiorra roughly looked the same.

Retsu turned to leave. "Please come. You too, Inoue-san."

"O-Okay..."

Grimmjow and Tia obediently followed Retsu out of the room.

Ulquiorra, however, hung back when he noticed that Orihime hesitated. "Woman," he said, turning to face her. "What are you doing?"

"Oh... uh, nothing!" she replied, laughing to herself. "I'm sorry, Ulquiorra-san."

His eyes fastened onto her ash-colored ones, studying her. "Did Unohana Retsu not say you shouldn't worry?" he asked bluntly.

She nodded, her anxiety starting to show. "Yeah, I know. Just thinking dumb things, you know? I know they wouldn't like, kill you or anything, because of what Unohana-dono said, but-"

"Why are you so concerned about us?" he interrupted, halting her babble. "About me, more specifically?"

Orihime didn't respond at first. She was clearly searching for an answer, but came up empty-handed. "I don't know," she admitted, blushing for what seemed like the millionth time that day. Feeling ashamed, she tore her eyes away from Ulquiorra and stepped past him.

Ulquiorra remained in his position for a brief second before turning to her, his gaze piercing her back. "I did not say it wasn't all right for you to," he said.

She stopped in her tracks, listening from the doorway.

"I only asked because you should not have a reason to," he continued. "Your attitude toward me should have been the same as everyone else's here, if not worse."

Don't get him wrong; he certainly didn't mind that Orihime was offering so much to him. He was fascinated by her lack of fear for him, her insistence on metaphorically embracing him. But shouldn't she face reality? The reality of what he has done to her and her friends? He was an enemy to her comrades. To Kurosaki Ichigo. The two of them fought with reckless abandon. With the intention to kill.

She could hate him forever, and he would understand.

"I said that I wanted to see if life was fair, didn't I?" she replied, her voice serious, but somehow lightly optimistic at the same time. A quirk he knew she always carried. "As far as the past goes, only a few things matter, you know?"

Ulquiorra knew what she meant, without her outright saying the words. He again remembered that last moment, her hand straining for his out of pure compassion.

_She does not hate me._

If she hadn't been facing the opposite direction right now, Orihime would have caught the soft flecks of awe in his eyes.

But it lasted only for a second.

"HEY, YOU BASTARD!" bellowed a familiar voice from somewhere down the hallway. "YOU AND LA PRINCESA NEED TO HURRY THE FUCK UP!"

Ulquiorra hid a cringe, while Orihime visibly tensed. Being associated with Grimmjow will certainly be embarrassing in the long run...

Orihime craned her neck to cast her raven-haired companion a confused look. " _La princesa_?"

"Grimmjow apparently likens you to a princess," Ulquiorra replied.

"Shouldn't he call me, um, _sorpresa_?"

" _Sorpresa_?"

"Yeah!"

"I hope there is no reason he should call you a surprise," he responded with a straight face, without missing a beat.

"Huh?" She blinked, dumbfounded. "But Sado-kun said it meant prisoner..."

"You must mean _preso_ , then."

If he were back in Las Noches, and he was still the girl's caretaker in the beginnings of her captivity, he would have left her room in a flash, beyond annoyed at this stupid human girl. But now, he was more so entertained, and didn't mind her odd qualities.

These idiosyncracies were—dare he say it?... Endearing.

_I must truly be... getting a heart._

Her eyes lit up in enlightenment. "Ah! So that's it! Thanks, Ulqui-"

_**"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS?"** _

Orihime jumped before she could finish her sentence. For a second, it almost felt like the ground quaked. "U-um..." she said, slightly shaken by the nuclear bomb of screams. "D-Does he practice yelling like that?"

Ulquiorra made a mental note to murder Grimmjow, and then turned his attention back to her. "Practice yelling?" he repeated. Unable to hold back his amusement of this woman, he managed a smirk.

She stared at him, astonished that his lips dared to move from its default frowning position.

"I suppose he does," he said dryly as he sauntered past her, out the screen door. "Let's go, Woman."

"Ha... hai!"

\- { - } -

To Orihime, the trek to Yamamoto Genryuusai felt like a death march: silent, tense, and foreboding. And it wasn't because she and Ulquiorra got their heads chewed off by Grimmjow (something Retsu herself, as a figure of authority, didn't do, funnily enough).

As soon as they entered First Division territory, her stomach began to drop. Even when she entered the room and saw her travel companion and nakama, Ichigo, among the twin rows of division captains, her easiness never let up. And even when Ulquiorra caught her eye with a _stop fretting over useless things, Woman_ glance as he and his fellow former Arrancars past her to kneel before Genryuusai, her heart raced all the faster.

She and an irritable Ichigo stood a few feet behind the Arrancars, also in the middle of their audience of powerful shinigami. Despite personally knowing some of them, Orihime still couldn't help but feel like they were _judging_ her.

"Well, there is no point in keeping you in suspense," Genryuusai said, eyeing each of the Espadas with mild suspicion. "After much debating with my my subordinates, we have finally decided the fairest way to deal with you Hollows."

 _Please don't execute them_ , Orihime found herself praying, her hands clasped together as they rested in front of her.

"But first... Inoue Orihime!"

She raised her head automatically at the sound of her name, looking toward the captain-commander, with everyone's— _everyone's_ —eyes on her.

"Yes?" she answered meekly. Without realizing it, she took a step backward out of intimidation. Why did it feel like she was garnering so much attention lately? Was it because of the Hougyoku?

"What do you make of these brats before you?" he boomed, pointing at the Arrancars.

Her gaze drifted to Tia, then Grimmjow, and finally, lingered on Ulquiorra, who was watching her expressionlessly. "They..." she said, her voice nearly a murmur, "... they deserve a second chance."

Was it just her, or did Genryuusai have an odd, _knowing_ glint in his eyes? "I'm sure that you think so," he told her, "with them really being here and all."

How come Tia look like she was trying to decipher her? Why was Grimmjow averting his sky-hued eyes? Why were all the captains sharing that same expression as the captain-commander? "I don't understand...?" she squeaked. She really didn't. None of it. She had more questions than Ulquiorra ever did as an amnesiac.

"What you did during the war," Genryuusai said blatantly, aiming to make her squirm, "may have had side effects, and these forsaken Hollows being here may have been it. I don't know who the hell would want to cleanse them."

 _What I did?_ There was something behind those words Orihime didn't quite grasp.

"You're talking about rejecting the Hougyoku. _Right,_ Yamamoto?" Ichigo finally broke in, narrowing his eyes at the First Division captain. However, she didn't understand why he was acting so defensive. Wasn't it obvious? Against all odds and by some odd process, she rejected the deaths and injuries of these three Espadas. Somehow. Then again, everything from losing sight of Uryuu and on had been a blur or completely unknown to her. Anything could have happened.

"Why, Kurosaki Ichigo? Do you have something to say?" the old man challenged.

His question was met with a scowl and a, "Tch."

She peeked at her bright-haired comrade out of the corner of her eye. He couldn't be hiding anything else from her, could he? They were close, after all. She was close with the entire group. Certainly, she wasn't too weak in their eyes to be able to handle secrets.

"So, Inoue Orihime," Genryuusai spoke up sharply.

She jumped at the sudden sound of his voice.

"Are you saying you want to pardon them? Keep in mind, these are the ones who kidnapped you, fought against your friends and Soul Society, and sided with our largest traitor to date, Aizen Sousuke. At some point in time, they wouldn't have hesitated to kill you."

Ulquiorra's emerald-colored eyes fell to the floor, his stare burning into the bamboo mat.

Orihime thought about her answer carefully. "If they didn't feel any remorse," she answered slowly, "and if they didn't learn the lessons they were supposed to in their past lives, then they wouldn't have been reborn here in the first place." She offered a timid, but sweet smile. "As a gift from the powers that be... it's redemption."

There was a long moment of silence. Genryuusai stared at her in thought, trying to comprehend her wanting to let the Arrancars be. _"_ Do you understand the position you put yourself in, Inoue Orihime?" he asked her.

She was _really_ beginning to dislike being called by her full name. "Pardon, Yamamoto-dono?"

"You are risking our opinions and alliances in regards to you," he explained in a hard voice. "You were once thought to have betrayed Soul Society when you _willingly_ went to Hueco Mundo."

"Listen," Ichigo interjected hotly, before Orihime could defend herself, "we told you who _—_ "

"Let me finish, Kurosaki Ichigo," the captain-commander said over him, and turned back to the human girl. "We know that it was this white-faced punk down here who made all of us believe you went out of you own free will."

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed a bit, but he said nothing.

"But because you were partly the reason we were able to easily defeat Aizen, despite his exposure to the Hougyoku..." he continued carefully. "We will compromise."

"Compro... mise...?" she repeated, digesting the word skeptically. She braced herself for his explanation.

"We'll have these three sent to the living world; to Karakura Town," Genryuusai finally concluded. "Exiled from this place until I personally see them fit to live among the Pluses in Soul Society."

The three Espadas had varying degrees of surprise on their faces. Ulquiorra's being only a fraction compared to the others, of course.

Ichigo, on the other hand, looked aghast. " _They_ are going to live in _Karakura_?"

"That is the arrangement, Boy," Genryuusai grunted. "Now get back to Urahara. He will need to prepare ahead of time. Tell him that their gigai must render them absolutely _powerless_."

The orange-haired teen's jaw tensed, murmuring obscenities to himself. "Son of a bitch..." Whenever a Plus of any kind who didn't remember life on Earth came down, it was always trouble. He could just imagine what it would be like with three ex-Espadas...

Orihime felt a smile spread across her face as her eyes darted toward the back of the Cuatro Espada's head.

_Ulquiorra-san..._

"Humans," Genryuusai announced, "leave ahead of time in order to inform that stupid scientist. The Hollows will remain here until we are informed that the gigai are ready."

Everyone was then dismissed.

As they all filed out, Orihime turned toward the three clad in plain yukatas, who were now on their feet. And for the first time, she saw a sliver of hope in a certain pair of endlessly green eyes.

 


	4. T'en Vas Pas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She holds meaning to me. I am in her debt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "T'en Vas Pas" by Elsa; "Be Still" by Kaskade

  
_\- { don't go away } -_

The day finally came.

A few days after the humans were sent back home, Renji, Toushiro, and Rangiku all returned to Soul Society from the humans' world, bearing news that Urahara had quickly and efficiently prepared gigai for the three new exiles. Nothing was challenging for the infamous researcher (according to him, of course).

Without a moment to spare, Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, and Tia (now dubbed the Resurrected Three) were sent to the gateway with no more than the clothes on their backs. It wasn't like they had any belongings to begin with, anyway.

Two members of the Eleventh Division familiar with the living world were to escort them through the Dangai. After noting the necessary precautions and risks of the gateway, it was time to head to Earth.

Madarame Ikkaku looked toward the three former Espadas. "Ready?" he asked them.

Ulquiorra merely looked at him, his gaze as hard as ever. The hairless shinigami rolled his eyes and took that as a yes.

Tia actually responded, nodding in the affirmative.

Grimmjow, meanwhile, folded his hands behind his head, smirking. "Che. Bring it on, Baldy."

Ikkaku gritted his teeth. "Madarame Ikkaku!" he yelled, practically screeching. "My name is Madarame Ikkaku!"

Ayasegawa Yumichika chuckled gracefully. Not a day went by without his fellow Eleventh Division member getting teased about his baldness. "Madarame-kun, if you please. We're pressed for time."

"The blue monster started it!"

"Hey! Not my fault Baldy took it so personal!"

"Because I'm not fucking bald!"

"Then what do you call your shiny-ass marble head?"

"Shaven, damn it! SHAVEN!"

Yumichika had to nearly shove the both of the hotheaded men into the entryway, using the sheathed, flat side of his zanpankutou.

 _Touch_ people less beautiful than he? Dear god, no.

\- { - } -

"So, how was seeing Inoue, Rukia?" Ichigo asked, leaning back in his desk chair as the petite girl swung her legs back and forth on his bed.

Rukia raised an eyebrow at him, her legs frozen in mid-swing. "You would know better than me. I've been at home with 'Nii-sama the entire time."

"No, I mean... didn't she visit you?"

"Visit me?" she repeated bewilderedly. "Since when was she in Soul Society?"

It was his turn to be bewildered. She didn't even know? "B-But Inoue told me... that she _really_ wanted to see you for some reason, so she went with me."

"And you believed her?" The shorter shinigami glared at him. "Baka." She sighed. "Tell me, Ichigo, why would she want to tag along if it wasn't to see me?"

"I don't know! She mentioned some shit about Unohana and ran off with Hanatarou!"

Rukia shot a wide-eyed stare at him, remembering something. "... She... went to see the Fourth Squad?" She seemed too bothered for Ichigo's taste.

The substitute shinigami stared back at her troubled expression, helplessly confused. "What does that mean?" he asked in a lowered voice, cautious.

Perhaps he shouldn't have asked. In fact, he began to absolutely regret it, because all of a sudden, he found himself face-to-face with Rukia's handy-dandy sketchbook of chicken scratches.

He felt a vein pop near his forehead. "Did you really need drawings for _this_ story!" Ichigo yelled.

She whacked him over the head with her sketchbook. "I already prepared this ahead of time!"

He bit back a groan as he rubbed his head.

"So, 'Nii-sama came in from a captain's meeting and told me about an interesting situation. He told me this in confidentiality because of Orihime, but you told me earlier that Renji came here and said something."

"Yeah, but he snuck over here based on something he eavesdropped on..."

"Anyway." She turned the page, revealing a bear with a green yukata, kneeling before a group of thirteen other bears, who were dressed in—Ichigo guessed—shinigami garb with captain vests. He had to appreciate the detail, at least. He could somehow make out which captain was which. "Ulquiorra Cifer was found outside the Dangai and was immediately brought to Yamamoto-soutaichou's attention, namely because we are still recovering from the Central 46 massacre," Rukia explained. "Turned out Cifer had amnesia."

Ichigo grunted in understanding, leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees. For the moment, he had to _look_ like he was engrossed in Rukia's stories... crappy pictures and all.

She turned to the next page.

He swallowed, leaning his head back to create distance between himself and her next drawing. It was a giant bear head with large, green, semi-circle eyes with two tear streaks running down either side of his face. The round head of this "Ulquiorra" critter was drawn so heavily and angrily that for a minute, he thought he was seeing a drawn picture of the well from the American version of _Ringu_.

Rukia paid him no heed. "Apparently, Cifer only remembered one thing. He spoke up in the midst of an argument among the captains, hoping that he could see-"

Next drawing. It was a bunny (at least, what he _thought_ was a bunny) with dark orange hair and blue asterisks for pins. Again, the head was drawn with sloppy, angry black rings.

 _Was she PMS-ing when she drew these or what?_ He wondered to himself.

"-Orihime," the waifish shinigami finished. "'Nii-sama told me that Hitsugaya-taichou was assigned to inform her. And if she wanted, go see Cifer, who was staying with the Fourth Division under Unohana-taichou's care." She frowned in thought. "I guess she agreed to go, then."

"And didn't tell me," Ichigo reasoned, recalling the way the redheaded healer acted at Urahara's shop. Afterward, the fact that Orihime went to Soul Society to specifically see Ulquiorra sank in. "Damn..."

"She lied to you?" Rukia asked, and then blinked. "Oh! By telling you she was going to see me, I take it. She probably thought you'd disapprove and make her stay here."

"Which I would've done, by the way," Ichigo muttered sourly, crossing his arms. "Inoue has no business fiddling with Espada-related things. Especially after the Winter War."

Rukia closed her sketchbook. "How did she seem to you, Ichigo?" she asked. "Was she anxious? Happy? Sad?"

"She was nervous," Ichigo sighed. "But she didn't look like she was dreading the trip to Soul Society." His eyebrow twitched. "In fact, as soon as we got to the other side, she sprinted off with Hanatarou, who was waiting for her, Rukia. _Waiting_. He was expecting her. Tsk."

"How about after that?"

"Inoue defended them, telling Yamamoto that they were _redeemed_!" Ichigo exclaimed, dismayed. "Fuck, it was implied that Orihime was the one who brought them back, and Old-Man-and-the-Sea _almost_ didn't keep his mouth shut about everything else!"

"You mean about...?" she interjected inquiringly, purposely not finishing her sentence.

"Yes," he replied in a quieter tone.

A silence befell the pair.

"So," Rukia spoke up, filling in the silence, "I heard that the Espadas will be sent here on exile." She didn't seem to like that idea, and Ichigo understood why. What Genryuusai "sentenced" the former Hollows with was pretty light, especially for the Gotei 13. "I imagine Orihime must be happy for them, especially Cifer."

The orange-haired boy chuckled bitterly. "She practically danced out of the First Division barracks."

Her violet orbs widened with interest. "That only proves the attachment theory."

"Mm..." he grumbled in affirmation. This was great. The group's healer―no, the group's _heart_ and _humanity_ _―_ was off making friends with the enemies.

He wouldn't allow it. He normally appreciated her kindness and generosity, but not this time. Not with these people. Neither he nor Rukia were too sure of the exact relationship between her and Ulquiorra, but Orihime didn't deserve such a heartless man, whether he was stripped of his powers or not.

"Also," he said, something else occurring to him, "remember the shit Yamamoto tried to instigate from the Winter War?"

She nodded.

"Well, after Inoue wound down during our walk back home," he continued, "she started asking me about it..."

. .

_"Kurosaki-kun..." Orihime sighed as they walked home from Kisuke's shop, on the night they came back from that makeshift hearing with Genryuusai and the others. Her energy finally died down after the events in Soul Society. She was now in a pensive mood, unfortunately. "... is there something you're keeping from me?"_

_Ichigo frowned. "No," he lied. He scoffed. "You know that old man. He just likes to make people quiver at his feet. Don't take what he said to heart."_

_"I see..."_

_He could tell from her facial expression that she didn't believe him, but he didn't argue. Ichigo didn't know what else to say to her. He was afraid to tell her_ everything _about the war. He didn't want to go back on the agreement between him and their group. Her getting rid of the Hougyoku was no mystery, but he just knew he wouldn't know how to answer if she asked more questions, especially when she figured out that there were indeed missing links in important parts of her memory._

_It wasn't like he could tell her about what happened after._

_Ichigo unconsciously rubbed his arms, as if cold. He could still feel the piercing burn all over his body-  
_

_"So how did I... redeem them?"_

_The orange-haired shinigami gulped discreetly. "Redeem who?" he asked her._

_"You know," she said, her cheeks tainted with a faint pink color, "Ulquiorra-san and the others."_

_He snorted, not looking at her as he retorted, "Hell if I know, Inoue. What happened, happened."_

_"Oh."_

_At her dismal tone, he shot a look at her, struggling to find facial expression that didn't betray his more troublesome musings._

_It could be a predicament if she didn't let it go..._

_. ._

"-Nothing direct, but yeah," he finished, after explaining what happened. He looked away. None of them liked lying to Orihime, but in the end... it was probably the best course of action. He exhaled tiredly. "I don't know if she believed me..."

The dark-haired shinigami frowned. "Well, hopefully their arrival will distract her from thinking about it."

Ichigo gave her a long look before swiveling around in his chair, facing his desk where his abandoned homework sat. "At this point, I really don't know what the lesser evil is," he muttered.

\- { - } -

"Ah, yes. Your gigai will definitely suit you fine! All thanks to me!" a voice rang out as soon as the Resurrected's party made it through the other side of the Dangai. It was first voice they and the shinigami chaperones heard. It was sprightly, with an undertone of something calculating. It reminded Ulquiorra of Szayel Aporro Granz, but without his eerie madness; something that was also seen in the black-and-white-faced Gotei 13 captain, whose name Ulquiorra didn't care to find out.

Sitting crosslegged and fanning himself idly as he examined each of the former Espada was Urahara Kisuke himself. The raccoon-like shadows from his hat brim made his eyes look mysteriously cunning as a smile slowly spread across his stubbled features. "Welcome to Earth, mina-san."

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra looked at himself in the full-length mirror in his new room, a cramped space that could only fit so much. His futon took more than half of it. There was also a large window, which he was sure would be _great_ in the mornings when the sun rays peeks in, annoyingly bright and warm once this winter weather passed.

It was their first day on Earth, and while Tia and Grimmjow were getting better acquainted with the other, more colorful residents of the shop (quite noisily, at that), he chose to keep to himself.

It was odd wearing human clothing. He vaguely wondered what that little vibrant-haired woman would say once she saw him in his black, form-fitting long-sleeve and this thick, somewhat restricting pair of dark pants called jeans. He never gave much regard to the weather before, but judging from the layers of clothing and scarves he would need to wear outside at "this time of year," according to Kisuke, he would have to now.

He laid a hand flat against his reflection, somewhat lost in thought. But the more he stared at his more human-like features, the more he felt like he was missing something. He ran a hand through his dark, shaggy locks. He was quite used to having his bone fragments on one side of his head. Seeing his hair so plainly black felt... unfinished. The gears in his head began to turn as he tried to solve this dilemma.

And then, Ulquiorra's door slid open. At that, he scowled, interrupted of his thoughts. Did people not knock in this world?

"Ulqui-san!" melodically called _that_ voice.

He was already irritated. "Yes?" he managed in a low tone. "Urahara Kisuke?"

"Urahara-san suits just fine," the sandy-haired scientist corrected lightly. "But anyway, I know how impatient you are about seeing Orihime-chan-"

"I never said that."

"-so she will come over after school today." He tapped his closed fan against his chin thoughtfully. "Remember what we talked about earlier today? Tia-san doesn't have room here to sleep, but Orihime-chan has agreed to let her stay over at her home! So, she has to retrieve Tia-san!"

Ulquiorra registered the information, nodding slowly in understanding.

"So don't forget," the ex-captain added brightly.

. .

"Uwaaa, you look cool!"

Those were the first words out of Orihime's mouth as soon as she saw him. Ulquiorra had been in the dining room, drinking tea by the time she arrived to pick up Tia.

"I look what?"

"Cool!" Orihime exclaimed. "Like, well... it suits you!"

"I see... I was able to choose this outfit to the approval of the others. It felt..." He could not find a word to describe the feeling.

"Right?" she supplied cheerfully.

He nodded, calmly satisfied with the term, as he found himself exchanging a peaceful glance with her. "Yes. That must be it."

For some reason, their eyes tended to automatically meet. As if it was a natural thing to do.

Tia, who was standing near the doorway, darted her eyes from one to the other, suspiciously observant. "I will wait outside. Don't take long."

At the blonde's abrupt leave, Ulquiorra suddenly broke his emerald gaze from the girl, feeling—what was it? Self-conscious? It was a petty human emotion, but it was there; he had learned it all the same. _Damn Tia..._

"Is something wrong?" Orihime asked him.

"I'm fine," he replied easily. He stepped past her, back into his room where his black and jade scarves and green blazer (did he really need this many things in order to walk outside?) awaited. "Tia is irritating sometimes. That's all."

But even as he hurried away, she followed. The compassionate young woman never failed to concern herself with him.

Why? He didn't know. After all, he was the one who psychologically messed with her and took violent measures against her comrades; especially Kurosaki Ichigo, someone who undoubtedly meant a lot to her. He had made her miserable, to the point where she actually clung to hope as if it was a deity or god on its own.

The thought rendered him still.

Another new emotion began to take over as the weight of his past set in: guilt. And the more he ruminated over it, the more unsettled he felt. He has never forgotten anything had done, despite her encouragement to do the opposite. Did most of the past _really_ not matter?

Even though she forgave him, he still needed a reason to forgive _himself_.

"Onna," he spoke up in a soft voice, not sure if the word came out at all.

"Hm? What is it, Ulquiorra-san?" Even if his back was to her, he could envision a look of worry on her unassuming little face, the sullen quiver in her pools of gray. These eyes of his have memorized her every feature.

"I did... horrific things." A tad shamefaced, his eyes bored into the tatami floor, examining the ridges as if they fascinated him. "Did I not?"

"What? Where did that... come from...?" Her voice trailed off, not knowing where he was going with this, or how she should approach his words.

"Would it mean anything if I apologized to you?" he asked her. Although with the faint volume, it seemed more like a rhetorical question to himself than one aimed at her.

Silence hung in the air, the moment frozen; as if her response was required for time to move along, but she didn't say anything. He was aware that she might be thinking about what he asked, but why would she have to think about it? Did she have second thoughts? Did she want to take back the heart she had offered him? Or...?

Ulquiorra heard Orihime circle around, to stand in front of him so that they stood face-to-face. He found that once again, their gazes habitually locked.

And then, her arms moved. They slipped around his shoulders, pulling him close to her. He felt the delicate angles of her face at the base of his neck and collarbone. He could smell her, a fresh mixture of earthen things he didn't know but wished he did. Her heart beat strongly but steadily against his own. Her body was warm and soothing against his; so much so that he wanted to remain still and let her melt into him. He felt safe.

However, Ulquiorra didn't allow himself to close his eyes in complacent security, nor return the odd but heartfelt gesture. He didn't deserve this. Any of it. Even if he returned everything he owed for mentally torturing her, for _everything_ he ever did to hurt her, it would still not be enough. Not to him.

His hands reached for her waist, and he pushed her off of him. But when he saw her eyes again, he realized what her answer to his question was.

_It does._

"But it doesn't matter anymore," she spoke up with a smile and a blush, as if adding to the words she didn't say (without her, of course, being aware of that fact). "We're _friends_ now. Not enemies!"

"Friends," he echoed, unsure. The word was strange to hear in his ear and to feel on his lips now that it had to do with him; now that he was no longer an outsider to the concept.

He liked it.

\- { - } -

It had been a couple of days since they had arrived, and one day before the three ex-Espadas were to start school at Karakura High School. Urahara Kisuke didn't want the three to simply bum around throughout their entire exile. While the ex-captain and Tsukabishi Tessai were making proper arrangements (including creating fake, more inconspicuous Japanese identities), it was insisted the three former Espadas started doing _something_ , like keeping up with some form of self-defense.

Despite the gigais' influence on the former Espadas' spiritual pressure, hindering any potential powers to _almost_ nil, Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, and Tia still had their sword skills intact. But with their shinigami-like Espada powers gone, they were left to use wooden practice swords, the _bokken_ kind. They were also not as swift as they had been as Hollows, but Kisuke had done what Genryuusai had asked of him, creating heavier-than-usual gigai for the three that not only muffled their reiatsu from detection and prevented them from simply coming out of the bodies unless the ex-captain "unlocked" them, but created a barrier from whatever enabled them to have any kind of power the shinigami had. However, Yoruichi hinted that they _might_ still be able to use shunpo (or more familiarly to them, sonido), but would have to re-learn it from scratch.

On this particular day, the two males of the Resurrected Three, on Grimmjow's insistence, sparred together in the underground training facility.

"Hey! Are you getting slower or am I getting faster?" Grimmjow yelled, laughing as he parried one of Ulquiorra's attacks. "Or do you just suck?"

"Nonsense," Ulquiorra grunted, jumping back after the sword clash. "Our skills have not changed. We are just-" Another clash, another sliding step to the side, "-hindered by these bodies."

Grimmjow took the verbal distraction as an opening, charging quickly at the ex-Cuatro. "Then you better not be holding back on me!" he exclaimed wildly, and took a sideways swing, which was easily dodged. "Aw, shit."

Ulquiorra tsked, standing from atop a rock structure. How he even got there, Grimmjow had no idea. Perhaps the raven-haired Plus's speed was still there. "Your offensive movements are far too predictable," the thinner male said, as if bored. "And your attempts to provoke me are not working." He hopped back down.

Quite contrarily, it was the blue-haired man who lost his cool, muttering long strings of swear words under his breath. In an act of impulse, Grimmjow rushed at him again, grinning snidely. What was he doing just throwing a bokken around? He was _bigger_ and physically _stronger_ than this twig of a guy! "I'll fuckin' show you, _Ulqui-san_!" He swung from overhead, aiming to simply use brute strength to beat Ulquiorra.

... Who effortlessly dodged to avoid the attack.

"You never give my words any consideration, do you, Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra asked smoothly.

"Get your hand out of your damn pocket and quit acting so fucking pompous!" Grimmjow snarled. Ulquiorra had not _once_ fought two-handedly in this battle.

"Or else what?"

Grimmjow blinked, not expecting to be asked that, but then devilishly smiled from ear to ear, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. "I'll take La Princesa off your hands, if you know wh—OW!"

He suddenly found himself slammed into the same rock structure Ulquiorra had been standing upon. The black-haired man had swiftly poked the end of the wooden sword at his sparring partner's chest, scowling with vehement disapproval.

 _Damn. A lot stronger than I thought._ "Hey!" Grimmjow protested with a perplexed laugh, the degree of Ulquiorra's reaction unforeseen by the ex-Sexta. "I didn't even say anything yet!"

_Fuck... I think he drew blood.  
_

"You already implied it," Ulquiorra said through gritted teeth, his voice even. "You will respect Inoue Orihime. After what she has done for us—to redeem us—we owe her our lives. _I_ owe her _everything_."

"I wasn't—god, you're taking me way too ser-"

"You will not objectify that woman," he continued dangerously, his piercing, fiery gaze against Grimmjow's cool blue one. "Do you understand, Grimmjow?"

As if he let anyone like Ulquiorra get to him. He let out a mocking huff of breath. "Damn. So protective. I'll back off if you've got claim on her."

"Do not misconstrue my relationship with her," Ulquiorra responded. "I am paying my dues. You should already know about that."

He smirked. He did not miss the brief flash of confusion in those serpentine green eyes. "Sure, you are," Grimmjow drawled teasingly.

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow.

Grimmjow shrugged casually, wrapping his fingers around Ulquiorra's wooden sword and forcing it away from his chest. "I'm not knocking on ya, Ulquiorra, if you give a shit about her. I just thought she was _hot_ , that's all. You do think she's hot, right?"

"..."

"Oh, come on!" Grimmjow felt like facepalming. Ulquiorra could _not_ be this oblivious. "You honestly don't see how attractive that woman is? Ya seen _these_?" The blue-haired man cupped his hands in front of his chest, imitating Orihime's most notable assets.

That earned him another hard thrust in the chest, smack in-between where his hands were situated.

"Shit! Okay, okay!" Grimmjow cried out, rubbing his sternum tenderly. He had to admit that Ulquiorra had a talent for hitting the same place twice in a row. "For fuck's sake..." _At least he knows what they are,_ he thought to himself, rolling his eyes.

"And for your information," Ulquiorra spoke up, letting his armed hand fall to his side. He turned his face away, looking somewhat reluctant of his next words. "... I am well aware of Inoue Orihime's allure." The sentence came out with such a straight edge that Grimmjow wasn't sure if he actually was, until: "I just do not feel that it should be simplified to a degrading degree."

Well, maybe the dark-haired boy wasn't such a frigid robot, after all. Grimmjow couldn't help but chuckle. "So you _do_ have an eye for pretty women. Knew you had it in you, Ulquiorra."

"I see you two are getting along."

The sudden sound of a third voice cause the blue-haired boy whip his head around in utter surprise. He found a serenely amused Tia standing not too far away, in the company of— _well, speak of the devil_ —Orihime, who was smiling somewhat shyly with her hands clasped in front of her, something he noticed she did frequently whenever he saw her at Hueco Mundo.

Grimmjow wondered if the two females heard their conversation. Orihime looked as timid as ever, but wasn't red in the face like he would have expected. If Ulquiorra was embarrassed about it, it didn't show.

However, first things first... "Damn it, bitch!" Grimmjow flared at Tia. "Quit doing that!"

"I apologize if I always manage to scare you, Grimmjow."

" _Scare_ me? I'm no pussy! You just pop outta nowhere like those fucking worms in the sand!"

"Then you should probably learn to _smell_ my reiatsu from a distance so you don't always get surprised." Tia could not stop the smirk from forming on her face.

He had no counter for that. He roughly stuck the tip of his bokken into the ground instead and leaned against it, still rather irked. "So, what're you doing here, anyway?"

"Urahara-san called me to the shop, and naturally-" she motioned toward the redhead with a shift of her vibrant green irises, "-this one came along."

"Naturally," Grimmjow echoed with a mischievous upturn of his lips, sneaking a meaningful glance at Ulquiorra, who ignored him.

"Urahara-san is done making arrangements," the ample-chested teenager piped up. "He sent us down here to retrieve you two."

"Arrangements for this school business?" the Ulquiorra guessed. He let out a huff of breath. "About time." Without hesitation, he began to leave, with Tia trailing after.

Orihime was about to follow suit, but the strong grip of Grimmjow's hand around her upper arm halted her. "Oi," he hissed.

She turned to give him a puzzled look. She was not yet acquainted with Grimmjow beyond what happened in Hueco Mundo and now, so she was still a little wary of him.

Grimmjow lifted his shirt and pointed to the middle of his chest, where she could make out a gross-looking puncture wound with bruising around it. Interestingly, he no longer had that angry scar across his chest. It was not from masking it with the gigai; Kisuke emulated their Plus appearances to a T. "Can you get rid of this real quick?" he asked her.

Orihime's eyes averted downward. "Kurosaki-kun told me not to use my powers for now..."

"Woman," Ulquiorra called from a distance, interrupting the conversation. "What are you doing?"

"Ah," she gasped, turning to him and Tia briefly. "We'll catch up, Ulquiorra-san! Go on without us!" After he unwillingly did so, the redhead transferred her gaze back to a confused Grimmjow.

"So, why can't you?" he interrogated. "Is that little asshole nuts?"

"H-He said that I can after I've fully recov-"

"Tch, he ain't here," Grimmjow dismissed quickly. With his bokken-occupied hand, he gestured around the training facility, not too much careful about where was pointing it, unfortunately. Orihime was very lucky. "Look where we are!"

She wasn't reassured, but complied anyway. "... Okay..." She lifted her hands, as if to summon her Shun Shun Rikka, but then hesitated, her brows furrowed with inner conflict.

What was the problem? "Well, get on with it, already!" Grimmjow snapped at her, causing the girl to flinch. "Not like I'm gonna snitch."

"S-Sorry..." Taking a deep breath, like she was mentally preparing herself, the red-haired woman started. "Souten Kisshun. I reject."

Where the golden-yellow dome should be was nothing but the air the two of them were breathing.

Grimmjow, overall dismayed, was ready to call the girl out on the failure. But when he swiveled his head to her, he found that she didn't look quite _horrified_ , per se, but with her face blanched and eyes far away, she still seemed unpleasantly stunned. She also looked disappointed; with herself or her fairies, he speculated.

Nonetheless, she decided not to give up. "Souten Kisshun," she recited again. "I reject!"

_Nada._

Her hands, which had been hovering over Grimmjow's wound, began to tremble. His sky-hued eyes rose to her troubled expression. _Oh, boy._ "Uh, hey," he said awkwardly. He didn't have the heart to yell at someone who had such a pathetic expression, a girl on the verge of frantics. _Great, I must be getting soft..._

"It won't—" she mumbled, more to herself than to him. She stared at her hands so pitifully that Grimmjow must have felt his hard, arrogant heart soften by about a thousand notches. "Why—they always listen—I—" she stammered.

He lowered his shirt, covering up the wound that was meant to be rejected. The tiny little thing wasn't worth all that trouble. He only wanted a quick-fix. _She didn't need to freak out about it,_ he thought. Grimmjow heaved a sigh, giving her a rough, but solacing pat on the back as he finally began making his way out. "Whatever. I'll live," he said over his shoulder. "I'm a man, after all."

She was about to follow him out the training grounds, but stopped abruptly, as if she realized something. "Don't tell anyone that I can't heal, Grimmjow-san."

He twisted around and give her an odd look. "Huh...?" Her tone was very strange. It was depressing, weak, and distant. For someone who had enough power to supposedly reject the existence of the Hougyoku, he had expected more pride in her voice, something more defensive in order to argue against her inability to heal him. Hell, he expected an actual _excuse_ , but she didn't even do that.

Orihime wrung her hands together anxiously. "Just don't tell, okay? Not even Ulquiorra-san or Tia-san. Or Urahara-san."

Was he missing something? He didn't understand why she was so secretive. He wasn't going to beat her up over it. No one was, especially when she just informed him that Ichigo wasn't letting her use her powers to begin with. In fact, Grimmjow was starting to regret the fact that he even asked her to heal one tiny cut.

He scoffed as his eyes drifted to the side. Remembering Ulquiorra's angry words about respect and dues from earlier, he nodded. Quite begrudgingly, at that. "All right," he said, slightly wary. "You have my word."

She smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

He began to notice that now, her gaze on him was different. Rather than skepticism with a speck of fearsome precaution, her ash-colored eyes held a bright, unadulterated... something he couldn't fully define. He had trouble squelching the airy feeling bubbling up from within. _I guess she's a bit charming..._ Grimmjow mused.

"We should go before Ulquiorra-san gets mad," she spoke up, desolate mood forgotten-or supressed, depending on how one looked at it.

 _Speaking of..._ "By the way," he began curiously, "did you happen to hear what me and Ulquiorra were talking about earlier?"

"Hm? Just something about pretty women," she answered with a blink, and then blushed hotly, gray eyes looking away. Like something else had begun to process in her mind.

Grimmjow smirked at her. She heard more than that, after all.

\- { - } -

"You agreed to _what?_ "

Orihime bit her lip, flinching as Ichigo's tone went sharp.

She and Tia met Ichigo, Rukia, Uryuu, and Yasutora in front of the school gates the next morning. And as if she was an ambassador of sorts between the two groups, she finally told her comrades what had been going on with the Resurrected Three, since they wondered why they heard nothing from Urahara Kisuke about the situation since their arrival. Not that the heroes cared much about their well-being; it was just that they didn't want to be completely unaware.

She had just finished telling them that Tia was staying at her place. And that they would be joining her and everyone else at Karakura High as second-years, upperclassmen to the group.

"Tia Harribel—no, Haribe Chie-senpai—is probably the least of our worries," Yasutora said sensibly. "And from what Inoue-san says, Urahara-san seems to have everything under control."

"Those Espadas don't have powers anymore, right?" Uryuu chimed in inquiringly, his index finger tapping against the bridge of his glasses.

"Urahara knows how to fix and customize gigai to fit any situation," Rukia commented, "so I don't think we'll run into anything... unusual."

Ichigo tsked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he turned to Orihime. "Inoue, if they _ever_ lay a finger on you, don't hesitate to tell us. I'll beat their asses to the ground."

She smiled uneasily, nodding at him obediently. If she told them that she found the Resurrected to actually be good company, she wouldn't hear the end of it, her nakamas' spiels about evil Hollows and stories of the war overloading her already overfilled brain.

"Are you done talking about me as if I wasn't here?" Tia finally spoke up, her voice defensively harsh. She crossed her arms over her chest. Ichigo and the others had conveniently forgotten that one of the Arrancars had been standing right beside Orihime.

Ichigo scowled. "Well... at least you're not Grimmjow or Ulquiorra. I'm sure I'd say a lot worse."

"Did I just hear you say my name... Highlighter Hair?" seeped in a dangerous voice, as a muscular figure snuck up behind Ichigo and his group.

The shinigami wasted no time in whirling around; ready to let him have it. "What did you call me, Grimmjow? Do you even know what a highlighter is!"

"It's Jougaimu Kurijou to you, _kouhai_."

"Really! So your name is 'hollow-shaped potato!'"

"NOT JAGAIMO, DUMBASS! JOU! GA! I! MU!"

The blue-haired man and Ulquiorra, who had walked to school with him, were now wearing the high school uniform. Orihime found herself eyeing the former Cuatro, favorably taking in his appearance. Seeing the official Karakura High School clothing made a sense of pride and genuine happiness well up inside of her. It was a feeling of satisfying finality; definite evidence that peace was only the beginning of something wonderful. Even under exile from Soul Society, Orihime knew that Ulquiorra and the Resurrected Three would be just fine in the living world.

"By the way," Ulquiorra said when the screaming match between the two noisy males calmed down, "Urahara Kisuke told me to give this to you, Kurosaki Ichigo." From his coat pocket, he fished out a folded piece of paper. In-between two fingers, he held it out to the boy, as if he was holding a Go gamepiece.

Ichigo unceremoniously plucked the note from his pale fingers, unfolding the paper and spreading it flat. There were five neatly written words on it, plus a chibi doodle of Kisuke inside a heart at the bottom. After skimming over it silently, he gritted his teeth in irritation. " _Please take care of us_?" he read out loud with contained fury.

He crumpled the paper into a tight little ball and threw it backward over his head. The paper sailed over his head to god-knows-where.

"What the hell does he think you are!" he griped loudly. "STRAY PUPPIES?"

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra knew that this high school education thing would be both a breeze and a hassle. Judging from the kind of things Orihime was taught in her class, even if she was considered an underclassman, he knew he could comprehend the material at first glance. Schoolwork at the second-year level shouldn't be that much harder.

"Everyone," their new teacher, Wakao Shin, called, clapping his hands together loudly to catch the chattering seniors' attention. After a moment or two, their conversations staggered to an alert silence, but not without the odd whispers between pairs of foolish-looking girls and the wary, judgemental looks. "It seems we have three transfer students," continued the _sensei_. "Who are from an international school in Spain and are... _all_... half-Japanese, I understand?"

"Hai, Wakao-sensei," Tia said. That was the reason Kisuke had told them to use. "And we decided it was time to return home."

He nodded to the three. "Please introduce yourselves."

Tia, ever the example of how a non-human in a human world should act like, was the first to greet the class. " _Hajimemashite_ ," she said politely, bowing slightly. "I'm Haribe Chie. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Shihaku Uruki," Ulquiorra said monotonously, without much more than an indifferent tip of his head. He snuck a glance at Grimmjow, just _hoping_ the former Sexta would not make an imbecile of himself, and therefore embarrass him and Tia.

"Yeah, and I'm... Jougaimu Kurijou," Grimmjow said, his tone a little on the rude side, but otherwise, nothing _too_ impolite.

"Jagaimo?" a student in the front repeated, mishearing him. "Potato?" The docile, boyish-looking student innocently hit his fist against his open palm. "Really... your name must be 'hollowed-out potato!'"

A vein at Grimmjow's temple popped. "My name ain't fucking Potato," he spat angrily, bending down so that he was at eye level with the unfortunate student, the blue-haired Plus's face a threatening few inches from his.

"S-S-S-Sor-r-r-ryyyyy!" the poor kid apologized, flattening against the back of his chair with absolute fright. "P-P-lease don't hurt me, Jou-san..."

"'JOU-SAN? DO I LOOK LIKE A GIRL TO YOU?" Suddenly, the boy and his desk went flying as both the remaining students and teacher remained frozen in blatant shock.

"Gri—Kurijou!" Tia barked over the noise. "Stop it!"

 _This is definitely more of a hassle._ Ulquiorra could only close his eyes and turn away from the scene, praying for the school day to hurry up and be over with.

\- { - } -

Class has ended. As the clock intoned its hourly jingle, Orihime raced through the second-year students' hallway.

... And nearly crashed into Tia, who was just coming down the hallway. While the blonde was able to quickly keep herself from falling from the impact, the redhead was not so lucky. She clumsily tripped into her roommate, her hands flailing before dropping down to her rear. "Ow..."

A tan hand appeared before her vision, and gratefully, Orihime took it as Tia pulled her back to her feet. "You seem excited," the former Tres remarked nonchalantly, and offered a half-smile. "Ulquiorra is still inside the classroom."

"Got it!" Orihime cheered, and then realized something before moving on. "I mean... it's not like I was rushing to _see_ him or anything!" she began to ramble, drawing her index fingers together self-consciously. "I was going to see all three of you and you just suddenly appeared out of no-"

"I understand," Tia said. She tilted her head to the side slightly. "However, Grimmjow got into some trouble this morning and is now paying for it by staying after. He is to clean the room by himself, I hear."

"Oh no! What did he do?"

"Acted like himself, to put it simply," she replied with a small sigh. "But that means you will be alone with Ulquiorra if you wanted give a tour around Karakura as originally planned." She gestured to her bookbag by tugging on the strap a bit. "I will return to your apartment and start on... _homework_."

Orihime couldn't help but giggle softly. The idea of Tia Harribel emphasizing the word _homework_ like it was the purest of evil was just so amusing... and not so different from how most normal teenagers viewed it. "Are you sure? Ulquiorra-san seems to think-"

"Unlike him, I am not familiar with certain subjects in your world," Tia replied. "I might stumble upon problems he may not." She crossed her arms and looked toward her classroom. "I had never left Hueco Mundo until the war, so..." She shot a small smile at Orihime. "I will see you later." But before exiting, she paused, as if something occurred to her. "By the way... what is a ganguro girl?"

\- { - } -

Although it didn't show on his face, Ulquiorra had been eager to leave his classroom with Orihime, mainly because he didn't want to wait around for the much louder Grimmjow, who was, at the time, surrounded by cleaning supplies.

The two ended up walking somewhat aimlessly along a shopping district in the heart of town, a moderately busy, but relaxing environment.

"I understand that you organize time by date," Ulquiorra said out of nowhere, looking up at a banner to a candy shop: _Buy your chocolate kits in time for February 14_ _th_ _! "_ We did no such thing in Hueco Mundo."

Orihime smiled humorlessly, the banner suddenly reminding her of Valentine's Day. She had been so caught up in other things that she didn't even notice what that particular date signified. Ironic, in a way. She often dreamt of the holiday, at a more innocent time. She would make chocolate for Ichigo, he would accept it, and he would smile sweetly at her. With the sunset as a romantic backdrop, he would lean in and give her a chaste peck on the lips.

But now something about that fantasy felt honestly wrong, like such an image didn't belong to her. Nor did she want it in her subconscious any longer. She's become numb and unfazed by Ichigo's friendly affections and protection toward her. Perhaps there was a reason she couldn't lean down and give the sleeping Ichigo a goodbye kiss on _that_ night. She wasn't meant to pursue him.

"Is there something the matter?" she heard a deep voice ask from beside her.

Orihime blinked out of her thoughts, discovering that they were still walking along the sidewalk, on a strip that happened to be full of candy, snack, and sweets shops and vendors. Decorations of hearts, cupids, and arrows heavily adorned the block like desperate advertisements. She turned to gaze up Ulquiorra, who, despite the unapproachable frown on his face, had an inkling of _something_ in his eyes that wasn't hard or piercingly cold. "No, I was just... thinking," she replied.

"About February 14th?" he surmised. "That is the day after tomorrow, correct?" He noticed a wreath of red and pink flowers in the shape of a heart in front of one store entrance, and let out a soft scoff. "What is so special about it? I don't understand."

Orihime smiled fondly, finding his lack of knowledge somewhat... _cute_. "That's Valentine's Day," she answered. "It's a holiday meant for love. Girls give chocolate to those they care about, namely..." she averted her gaze slightly. "... someone they love."

"Love," Ulquiorra echoed, unimpressed. "I don't believe such a food should signify how a woman should feel about someone."

"Oh, no, it doesn't," she responded lightly, agreeing with him, "but it's just for fun." Should she be surprised that he knew what chocolate was? Or more so that he knew what _love_ was? For a second, she wondered if he had ever felt it before. In a way, the thought made her slightly jealous, but she didn't know why.

It was absurd.

"Will you give chocolate to Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Her smile wavered. "Eh?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo." He eyed her scrutinizingly, as if he caught the unsureness in her tone. "Don't you feel that way for him?"

With such a powerful, but unreadable, look from him, what answer did he want from her? Orihime blinked quizzically at him. "I did, I think," she finally said, her tone careful, "but not anymore..."

She had never voiced it to anyone before. Now that she said it out loud for once, she felt more certain about it; dauntless. It was almost exhilarating how much peace surrounded her heart. It was like she made it _official_ to Ulquiorra. She had let go.

 _I'm not in love with Kurosaki-kun_. She still cared greatly, but her romantic feelings for him were far away in the past. And from this point on, they may eventually end up fading even further.

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I was under a different impression, from Las—" When his eyes fell on her spreading smile of content, he backtracked. "But I will not argue against it," he added. He faced away from her, breathing out what sounded like, "... You odd woman..." as a ghost of a smirk appeared on his face.

Orihime couldn't help but beam back at him and think back to the day before, when she and Tia found him and Grimmjow talking after a strenuous spar. Ulquiorra always said things with purpose, and only talked when he had something meaningful to say, but the way he wove words together felt like she was reading old-fashioned, romantic poetry, the essence of them still so clear. And now? _I will not argue against it_ sounded more like, _I'm happy for you_. Although he didn't voice those words, in his eyes, that much was loud and clear to her.

Her heart unexpectedly throbbed with something softly sentimental. She put a hand to her chest curiously.

"What is wrong with you now, Woman?" Ulquiorra asked, furrowing his brows in puzzlement. He noticed her hand against her chest. "Are you sick?"

"No!" she squeaked. She really needed to stop delving into her thoughts randomly like that. She suddenly realized how much darker the sky was getting, and decided to call it a day. "Sorry," she apologized uneasily, "It's been a long day and I must've not gotten enough sleep. I keep thinking about my dream where... the mildew monsters tried to take over Soul Society!"

"What-"

"I should go; it's getting late. Sorry, Ulquiorra-san."

"..." Ulquiorra must have figured that she _really_ didn't have enough sleep with that kind of nonsensical explanation, for he nodded in compliance, still watching her with slight confusion.

She aimed a finger in one direction; at approximately the 4 o'clock. "I live that way. Do you know how to get to Urahara-san's from here?"

"Of course," he said, already beginning to turn, "I'm not a child." After a few steps of departure, he turned back around halfway to catch her silver-gray eyes with his own, both pairs now darkening with the incoming dusk. "Onna," he muttered. "Good night."

Orihime's eyes rounded, temporarily dumbstruck. He always seemed to leave pleasant surprises for her. At that, she smiled. "Good night, Ulquiorra-san."

\- { - } -

Ichigo wasn't entirely sure _why_ he got stuck with Grimmjow.

The bright-haired shinigami and Rukia had been about to leave the school property for the day (a little later than usual due to some misadventure Asano Keigo had caught the two of them up in), when they noticed, midway through the trek, that a certain spiritual signature was constantly within range.

 _"He's..."_ Ichigo had murmured out of the side of his mouth to the petite woman walking beside him. _"... following us, isn't he?"_

 _"Yup,"_ Rukia had answered, not bothering to lower her voice like he had.

It wasn't until they reached Ichigo's street a few moments later that he finally turned around and hollered at him to come out of the shrubbery because he was terrible at hiding his reiatsu.

Apparently, it was only simple boredom that spurred the taller, more muscular male to follow Ichigo and Rukia. He also possibly hoped for a quick, _playful_ fistfight. Fortunately for Grimmjow,—but of course, unfortunately for Ichigo—sweet little Kurosaki Yuzu happened to be walking back from the grocery store from the opposite direction. Spotting the three teenagers ahead, she had no doubt that Grimmjow was going to join them for dinner.

\- { - } -

And so, there the high school students sat in Ichigo's room, with Rukia lounging on the bed, Grimmjow sitting on the floor with his back against the side, and Ichigo seated at his desk. For the past fifteen minutes they had been there, waiting for dinner to be ready, the human male had given Grimmjow multiple aversive expressions, such as murderous glares and leery stares.

"You _really_ don't have to stay," Ichigo finally spoke up in the awkward silence, his voice absolutely insistent for the blue-haired Plus to leave.

Grimmjow grinned mischievously, fully aware of how much of a pain he was to his once-enemy. "Nah. I wouldn't want to hurt your sister's feelings, ya know? She seemed real excited about making dinner tonight..."

Ichigo shook his fist at him. "You fucking-"

Before he could go on, a beeping sound from the orange-haired teenager's bag broke in, stilling all three bedroom occupants. Ichigo looked more annoyed of it than anything. "Crap," the teenager groaned as he leaned over and took out the contraption, a phone-like object that flipped open. After giving it a once-over, he turned to Rukia. "Do I _have_ to?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Rukia, on the other hand, was already slipping on a fingerless, leather glove. "That goes without saying," she replied toughly. She hopped off the bed, and lunging forward, slammed her palm into his forehead.

To Grimmjow's surprise, another Ichigo, a spirit version of him, fell backward from his body, as if it was the one who felt the impact of the hit. The true body, similar to a gigai, dropped to the ground in a heap.

"What the fuck just happened!" Grimmjow demanded, pointing frantically at the body on the ground.

Instead of answering him, Rukia stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. "Kon!" she called. "I need you!"

Popping out from a drawer next to the bed was a stuffed yellow lion, flailing his stubby little arms at the black-haired girl. "Onee-san~!" he sang lovingly, misinterpreting her words. "What do you need~?"

"What the hell is that fucking toy doing!" Grimmjow yelled, backing away from the moving plushy.

The soul-inhabitied toy turned to him, putting his paws on his hips. "Who are you calli-" However, there was no time for Kon to say anymore as Rukia carelessly picked him up by the head, reaching into his mouth to take out a little green pill.

"Why won't anyone answer me!"

Ignoring the dumbfounded ex-Arrancar, shinigami Ichigo sauntered to his window, lifting it open. Meanwhile, Rukia went over to the soulless body and popped the pill in. Instantly, Kon, now in Ichigo's real body, sat up, blinking as he adjusted himself from being a stuffed animal to a human.

"Wha-wha-wha-!" Grimmjow stuttered, just plain confused. Too much going on for his brain to take. "I thought this kid was human! The-"

"We get it, Grimmjow!" Rukia shouted, glowering at him with annoyance.

He glared at her expectantly, waiting on those damn answers.

She shifted her violet eyes to the side. "I'll... stay and explain." She didn't seem to like the idea of being alone with him, but they were a little pressed for time. She tossed a glance at Ichigo. "I trust Ichigo to be able to do this without my help."

"I can't leave you with this bastard..." Ichigo said, his voice fading out doubtfully. He looked particularly protective.

Grimmjow suddenly turned very serious. "Why?" he asked, regarding him frostily. "You think I have the power to stick my hand through her stomach again?"

Rukia swallowed nervously, remembering how awestrikingly easily the Sexta Espada plunged his fist through her, and how excruciatingly painful that experience was. Next to her, Kon visibly shivered. He didn't know who Grimmjow was, but he was a little scared of finding out.

It wasn't like Grimmjow had any strength to do that anymore, but a threat was still a threat; even an empty one. "Watch it..." Ichigo growled, his knuckles whitening as his grip on his zanpakutou tightened.

"Watch what?" Grimmjow remarked, his eyes dancing with provocation. "Your little girlfriend here?"

"She ain't my—you—!" Ichigo heaved a frustrated, grunt of a sigh and turned. "There's no time for this."

Grimmjow watched the orange-haired teen haughtily. "Then get going; I won't do anything to her," he said, unusually quiet.

And after a moment's hesitation, the young shinigami left.

\- { - } -

The way back to Urahara Shouten was taking longer than Ulquiorra thought, but it didn't matter to him. It gave him time to mull over the events of the day, but instead of reflecting on his first day of school, he found his thoughts drifting back to Orihime.

Why he felt relief in knowing her heart no longer chased after Kurosaki Ichigo, he wasn't sure. But the way she confessed it to him seemed so free; like she had been harboring the afflicting secret for a while. Telling him was her catharsis. He did not know the circumstances surrounding her reasons for discontinuing her pursuit, but maybe those feelings of hers permeated into him. Thus, he felt that same peace _for_ her.

Right?

It was the most logical solution he came up with. Although, at the same time, it irritated him because even _that_ didn't sound logical. It made as much sense as this Valentine's Day business.

 _Where is that little woman when I need her to explain these things?_ he wondered, scowling to himself. S _he can make sense of these insipid—_

Ulquiorra suddenly stopped thinking. In fact, he almost stopped breathing. An aura of unwanted familiarity suddenly filled his senses, making his jaw tighten with uneasiness. He had been hoping to get away from any part of his old life other than his fellow Arrancars, but he understood that while the shinigami were still around, doing what they were trained to do, he wouldn't be able to avoid it.

He felt the reiatsu of a Hollow, and it was close.

Reflexively, Ulquiorra's head snapped toward where it manifested, his detection skills still as sharp as ever. However, he knew all too well that he was powerless against a Hollow. He had nothing to fight with; no powers, no zanpakutou, and he doubted he'd be able to deflect anything with his hands anymore.

Suddenly, from behind, he heard the sounds of sprinting feet in bamboo sandals speed in, the wind of his run causing Ulquiorra's hair and overcoat to flutter briefly as he passed by. The former Cuatro caught sight of black, and most notably, orange.

Ulquiorra broke into a run, changing after Ichigo with a strange curiosity. A few blocks and corner-turns later, he stumbled upon the shinigami leaping swiftly into the air with his sword out. So easily, and with expertise, he let out a cry of determination as he vertically cut his blade down into the Hollow. It emitted a long scream as the cleansing began, returning it to wherever it belonged: Hell or Soul Society.

 _The way he slashed through it is merciless,_ Ulquiorra observed. _Even with the intention of cleansing._ It felt a fraction disturbing, being on the other side of the struggle. _If I hadn't evolved... would this have been my fate?_

After it was over, Ichigo strolled up to Ulquiorra and tossed him a gloating smirk, strapping his zanpakutou to his back. "What's wrong, Espada?" he asked airily. "Me killing a Hollow make you nervous? Scared?"

_"..."_

"Look," the orangeheaded boy said, a look of contempt beginning to cross his face as he changed subjects. "You better stay away from Inoue. I don't know what the hell went on between you two, but whatever it is, it'll only bring her pain."

"She came to see me in Soul Society out of her own free will, and forgave me," Ulquiorra countered, without batting an eye. "How is that pain?"

"Bullshit! You and the Espadas are walking reminders of her imprisonment!" Ichigo replied without a moment's hesitation. With each sentence, he started to step in closer to Ulquiorra, threatening him with every sputter. "You think any of us could _forget_ what happened? Do you know what she was like when she woke up from her coma?"

"-Coma-?"

"She doesn't need to be involved with you," the underclassman went on as if he didn't hear his interjection. "Besides, she loves _me_!"

 _So, he knew._ Ulquiorra couldn't say he was surprised. It was obvious enough in Hueco Mundo, even when Ichigo was slow on picking up other things. The raven-haired boy didn't know if he should let him know that Orihime didn't love him anymore, but it wasn't relevant. At least, not as much so as _how_ the shinigami said those words. He did not know exactly what he was implying, but it did not sit right with him. Thus, he stood dignified, rarely moving as he observed the hotheaded shinigami before him. "And yet," he voiced, his tone a bit on the dark side, "you do not love her. Let me, in fact, tell you what I think you are doing by saying that."

Ichigo raised a suspicious brow. "Tell me, then."

"You are stringing her love along, now trapping her so you can keep her innocent and naive; more than that, away from people like me."

The shinigami sneered. "That's what you think, smart-ass?"

"Why would I step aside for trash like you?" Ulquiorra continued. "I thought I was the one who could not grasp the concept of the heart, but you are the one ignorant of it."

"The hell are you talking about?"

There was a long, thoughtful pause on Ulquiorra's part as he watched Ichigo with a sharp, condescending look. "I see," he murmured to himself.

"See what!" With his questions unanswered, Ichigo was growing more frustrated.

"Do you actually think you are protecting that woman by trying to keep me away?" Ulquiorra challenged, his voice like ice. He pointed to the area of his chest right below his neck. "I am no longer a servant to Aizen Sousuke. If anything, you and I are now equals."

"Tch, you wish," Ichigo retorted, crossing his arms with superiority. "You're practically human with that gigai on. You're fuckin' powerless."

"Then there is no need to guard her from me."

The orange-haired boy snorted. "Well, your forte is trapping her with your damn mind games, Espada-"

"She holds _meaning_ to me," Ulquiorra cut in irately. "I am in her debt."

Although he caught Ichigo off guard at first, the shinigami didn't let his suspicion toward him let up. "Since when do you even care?"

Ulquiorra lowered his emerald gaze, thinking out his answer carefully. "... When she showed me redemption."

"Yeah, that's what she said back in Soul Society," Ichigo said with a scowl. His eyes fell to his feet. "Even after everything the Espadas did..." he added as an afterthought. After another pause, he shook his head, snickering to himself. "You definitely became more human," he scoffed, his voice a cross between humored and disquieted.

Before Ulquiorra could respond, the detector went off, signifying another Hollow. "Hell... what a pain in the ass," Ichigo raged in mumbled fury, squeezing the device almost to the point of breaking it. After the abuse, he flipped it open.

It was when Ulquiorra felt it. When he followed Ichigo to this spot, he didn't notice before, but now he could sense the reiatsu of Orihime from where they were standing. It wasn't close, but still detectable. Knowing that gave him a sinking, feverishly bad feeling in his stomach. Without much thought other than getting to her, he ran.

"Shit! It's near Inoue's place," Ichigo noted grimly. He looked up from the detector. "I better—what the hell?" The shinigami realized that Ulquiorra was now out of sight and earshot.

\- { - } -

She shouldn't have stopped at the convenience store on the way home. She shouldn't have stayed to flip through a few magazines and ponder about the day, mainly about her conversation with Ulquiorra. Because now, she was possibly in trouble.

Orihime felt a shiver run up her spine, followed by sensation of a cold, dense reiatsu. There was a Hollow nearby.

After taking a quick look around her surroundings, she accelerated her pace into a jog, in search of the enemy.

 _Wait, but I can't..._ she realized, remembering what happened with Grimmjow. Slowing down to a walk, and then to a stop, she felt the burdens of uselessness and incompetence again, laying their weights on her shoulders with vengeful reminder. Although telling herself that Ichigo coming to her rescue in the nick of time was more than likely definite, she itched to do something; to not stand aside like a damsel in distress. She had enough of that in Hueco Mundo. But without her powers, she no longer knew what to do.

The ground rumbled, and the sound of heavy, running footfalls stampeded toward her from behind. The spiritual pressure weighed down on her, holding her in place. But she couldn't let that stop her. She forced herself to turn around, her silky head of hair flaring out as she did. All she saw were long, curved white horns, the sharp tips aimed at her as it continued to charge. Dropping her plastic grocery bag in the process, she managed to clumsily sidestep, watching in mute shock as it rushed past where she had been standing just seconds ago.

It was an Adjuchas-class Hollow. A stocky one with a bull-like bone mask, standing upright like a human, its limbs ending in hooves rather than hands and feet. It was well over six feet tall with long arms.

Orihime pursed her lips together. She took a careful step back as it pivoted around on his hoof and came forth, slowly this time, looming over her as if its mere size would intimidate her. But truthfully, she has seen bigger and scarier.

 _Here goes nothing..._ "Koten Zanshun! I reject!" she yelled, praying that what happened with Grimmjow was just a fluke.

Unfortunately, nothing happened. She frowned, her anxiety rising ten-fold. But why-

_A white room; large, cold, and lonely. A cylindrical structure in the middle, unfazed by the yellow-hued barrier surrounding it._

She gasped as the image fleeted violently across her mind. The Hougyoku's pillar? Why would she be thinking of that at a time like this? What did that have to do with anything? Her heart raced, a clammy, haunting feeling suddenly blanketing her. She found it hard to concentrate on the situation at hand. However, there was no way she was going to let herself be a helpless princess... But how was she going to fight?

She took a few steps back as the Hollow silently took a few forward. An orange, which had rolled out of her forgotten plastic bag, splattered underneath its heavy hoof. _Tsubaki-kun..._ she thought cautiously. _What are you doing...?_

"Useless little girl," the Hollow intoned with an unearthly growl, pulling back one long arm as if winding up for a deadly swipe at her.

 _Useless..._ Orihime repeated in her head, her morale beginning to weaken. She had no choice but to run away. Swallowing what little pride she had left, she spun on her heel, so caught up in her thoughts that she moved as if she was underwater. She forced herself to run out of the arm's range, only to find that her legs felt like jelly. Why did it feel like she was resorting herself to a blob of hopelessness?

She tripped over her own feet, landing on all fours on the cold cement. She missed the arm by a hair, feeling the air of the movement whip over her head.

_She sank down in front of the pillar, distraught. Incompetent._

"No!" she hissed shakily, driving the flashes away. Feeling the Hollow catch up to her, Orihime hastily pulled herself to her feet. _Turn around,_ she ordered herself, using every amount of willpower she had to focus. _Concentrate and try again._ _I'm_ strong _._

The redhead turned around just in time to see the Hollow lower its head and its stance, about to ram her again.

She quickly held her hands out in front of her. "Santen Kesshun!" she recited in a rush. "I reject!" _Come on, everyone..._

Another feeble attempt. She had no time to lament over it, however, as it charged. With the distance much shorter, Orihime had less time to scramble away, her sudden jerk to the side knocking her off her feet. She landed hard on her bottom, the Hollow just barely missing its target.

The bull-masked being laughed as it sped past her, halting in time to catch her evasive maneuver and to crane its neck to look at her.

Orihime crawled backward, only to find herself lightly colliding into a brick wall that lined the sidewalk. What was going on? Why were her fairies doing this to her? Especially at a time like this?

"Santen Kesshun! ... Koten Zanshun!" she cried in mad desperation, watching in wide-eyed horror as her view of the nearly full moon disappeared, replaced by a shadowed bone mask. The darkness of the night further dimmed the vibrant-haired girl and her surroundings as the Hollow's large figure came closer. She could not escape.

It pulled back its long, muscular arm one way, about to backhand her in a way that was, much to her fright, reminiscent of a similar event from before the war and before her kidnapping.

She raised her hands up weakly. "S-San... t-ten-" she stuttered, the lump in her throat obstructing her speech. Her vision blurred. Why couldn't she do anything?

_I'm strong..._

_Right?_

The Hollow began to swing.

Her body stayed rooted to the concrete, her mind going blank.

_No..._

The dark arm of the Hollow was a nanosecond from making impact with her frail human body, when she felt someone rush in and throw his arms around her, holding her tight as he took the swinging hit from the Hollow. Orihime squeezed her eyes shut as they soared into the air. The two of them tumbled savagely down the street, bodies bouncing like ragdolls from the momentum of the hit. They finally rolled to a stop on their sides somewhere near the end of the block.

Orihime's body hurt all over, but not as much as it should have, she discovered. She opened her ash-hued eyes wide, the grip on her suddenly loosened from the final fall.

And then her face drained itself of all color. With everything happening so fast, she could not identify her savior. Not until now.

It was Ulquiorra. And he was battered, bleeding, and passed out cold.

"Ulquiorra-san," she whispered with alarm, putting a hand on his unconscious face. His head now rested against one of her arms, his own slung limply around her body. Her heart wrenched painfully as his actions sank in. He had saved her; cushioned her with his own body, as weak and fragile as it was compared to when he was Arrancar.

Orihime leaned her forehead gently against his, tears cascading freely from her eyes. She never expected he would go this far for her sake.

Behind her, the heavy footfalls of the Hollow approached ominously, cackling with sinister amusement.

Wholly defenseless, all Orihime could do was cradle Ulquiorra's head into her chest and bury her face into his mop of onyx-colored hair, shielding in the only way she was able to do as they awaited their imminent demise.

_Sorry, Ulquiorra-san..._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my friend, Yukimu/Yuna for helping me create plausible names!
> 
> Here are their meanings:
> 
> \+ Shihaku Uruki: "Shi" – intention, will; "haku" - count, earl, chief official; "Uru" - intercalate; "ki" - tree.  
> \+ Haribe Chie: "Hari" - needle; "be" - area, side; "Chi" - 1000; "e" - benefit, gain.  
> \+ Jougaimu Kurijou: "Jougai" - outside a castle; "mu" - six; "Kuri" - hollow; "jou" - shape. _*Yukimu and I had the most difficulty with his, particularly his last name. We joked that the ultimate name we chose sounded like "jagaimo" (potato), which I ultimately could NOT pass up on using in the fic._


	5. Like China in my Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Vulnerable" by Roxette; "Will of the Heart" by Shiro Sagisu (from the _Bleach_ OST)

_\- { because I wanted to } -_

After Rukia gave Grimmjow the Cliff Notes version of the origins of Ichigo's powers pre-meal, they sat silently and awkwardly at the Kurosaki dinner table, sipping the tea Yuzu had offered the two of them post-meal. After that, the two were left to themselves.

The shinigami wanted no more than to leave (or at least, find an excuse to), but she didn't want the blue-haired Plus to think she was scared of him. She still had some pride.

While Grimmjow drank all of his down and was now on his fourth cup by the time Yuzu and the rest of the Kurosaki clan let them be, the petite shinigami barely touched her first, choosing mainly to trace her finger around the rim of the sable brown teacup in thought. Since the former Arrancar with her brought up terrible memories, she couldn't get it out of her head.

And currently, she was at the point where she couldn't take it anymore. "Grimmjow..." she spoke up, filling in the silence.

He shot a look at her, simply as a response to his name, and then shifted his gaze to his hand on the table, fingers resting against his cup. "I can't, you know," he told her, already knowing what she wondering about. "And even if I could stab through you with my hand, I _wouldn't_."

Rukia's eyes widened in shock. "Oh..."

He grinned slyly at seeing the bit of relief in her violet orbs, and then shrugged. "I got a new life," he said nonchalantly, drinking up the rest of his tea like he was chugging a mug of beer. "Might as well not fuck it up—at least, not like before. Tia said we needed to learn how to be human; like be social or whatever." He tsked. "They wouldn't be able to function in Hueco Mundo. It was nothing but isolation and other dumb crap."

"Mm," she concurred. "I wouldn't want to know what it's like to die alone." Granted, she almost did, at the hands of the Noveno Espada, Aaroniero Arruruerie. She hadn't expected anyone to save her, but she remembered that if she _had_ died, her last thoughts would have been of her friends; even though she still would've been alone.

"I ain't apologizing, you know," Grimmjow grunted pridefully. "You were my enemy at the time, so... I did what I had to and wanted to do."

"I would've done the same," she admitted. She set her sketchpad down on the table, thinking. "But with these circumstances now, we're forced to face each other, as former enemies. The Powers That Be are forcing us to interact and to... I don't know, get along."

"Redemption," Grimmjow uttered absently, remembering Orihime's reason for their resurrection.

"Yeah, I guess that's right."

A long pause followed. Rukia didn't know what it was, but she had a feeling that something else was bothering Grimmjow. Was it from the exchange earlier that evening? When Ichigo had still been at home? Or was it something else?

"So," she decided to speak up, drawing the word out to fill in the silence. "I heard you were really bored."

Grimmjow offered an expression that said, _god, that was lame_. "You mean today? What's it to ya? If you have a sword lying around somewhere, then we can have a go." At the thought of that, he grinned.

She glared at him. Was fighting all he ever wanted to do? "No. I meant to ask if there was something..." Her eyes drifted to the table. She was really going to regret asking this later. "... wrong."

After giving her an honestly surprised look, he snorted. "Why do you care?" He rolled his eyes. "Last time I checked, you and Princesa's precious little Kurosaki-kun hated me. I assumed you did, too."

"I meant it in a suspicious way," she explained in defense, crossing her arms. "If you have something to say of relevance to us, then you better spit it out."

He tsked out of irritation. "What the hell? Can't a guy follow another guy home?"

Rukia didn't know if it was the tea that was making her susceptible to such a vivid imagination, but terrible images suddenly appeared in her head. Very terrible, and all too embarrassingly comical. She tried to keep her face straight, before inappropriate laughter exploded out of her mouth. "Um, not in this world, no..." she managed to reply in a clipped tone. She coughed. "But anyway..."

Grimmjow regarded her with skeptical eyes. "What...? Do I look like I'm keeping something from you?" To Rukia, it only made him look more suspicious. She wondered how bad he was at keeping secrets. "It's not a big deal," he breathed exasperatedly. "I mean, you told her not use her powers, anyway. It doesn't matter if sh—oh, _fuck_." The former Sexta suddenly hit his open palm against his forehead.

But he already somewhat gave himself away.

Rukia has gotten pretty sharp at picking up these things, due to her time as shinigami, learning especially from the time of her imprisonment and Aizen Sousuke's betrayal. "Grimmjow..." she prodded in a hard voice.

He looked away with a huff. "..."

"If it concerns Orihime, we _have_ to know." With an impatient sigh, she darted her eyes to the side quickly, as if hers would reveal whatever _she_ was trying to keep hidden. "But," Rukia explained, her voice careful, "Ichigo told her that because she is still recovering her full power. Destroying the Hougyoku wasn't a piece of cake for her. She used up enough energy to render herself comatose, you know."

"Full power?" he repeated, suddenly interested. "If she's recovering energy for her powers, then maybe she can't use them at all 'til then? Like you have to turn an ability off in order to charge it?"

Rukia narrowed her eyes, as if coming to some kind of conclusion from his words. She crossed her arms and frowned. And cautiously, she asked, "What makes you say that?"

Grimmjow suddenly scowled to himself, unable to answer. He was too straightforward of a person to wheedle his way out of trouble.

"You don't know what happened, do you?" She looked at him with steady eyes.

"Sure, I do," Grimmjow retorted with plain ease, even if he wasn't that well-informed on the subject. "La Princesa rejected the Hougyoku."

" _Reject_ wouldn't be the proper term for what she did," Rukia replied, and as he watched her with frustratedly confused blue eyes, she stood up from the table with her empty tea cup. "That's all I'll say."

\- { - } -

Orihime was frightened for her life; and Ulquiorra's. What made it worse was that the Hollow advancing toward them was all-too aware of this, and thus, taking its sweet time, leaving her room only to guess what it was going to do to them... and how much her body would be able to take.

Tighter and tighter her grip on Ulquiorra became as the Hollow approached. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched something move.

It was that arm again.

And this time, Orihime felt the full force of the swing, the Hollow curveballing her into that same brick wall. She let out an involuntary howl of pain as her body made impact, a shock of intense pain riding up her shoulders and her entire backside. She fisted his clothing at his back to keep grip like her life depended on it.

They sank to the ground like plush toys. She landed in a sitting position, flat against the wall with Ulquiorra slumped over her. Terrible sensations invaded her body. Her eyes welled up with tears again, but now for a different reason.

_Bite through it... Bite through it!_

The redhead inhaled deeply, hoping it would help her suck it up.

"Useless little girl and her boyfriend," the Hollow taunted with a laugh. "You're making this too easy."

 _Stop it,_ she jeered silently, her lips pursed together with disgust toward her enemy. _Stop it!_ The Hollow had no right to call her useless. Her powers of healing and shielding people she cared about were her pride and joy.

"O...Onna..."

Hearing a hoarse, but familiar voice in front of her, Orihime suddenly gasped. What a bad time for Ulquiorra to wake up. She felt a feeble push against her, the green-eyed man trying to regain his own balance, but instead of success, she heard a muted hiss, the weight of his injuries quickly catching up to him. One arm was limp; it must have been broken or dislocated. With his slowed, conservative breaths, she assumed that he may have broken some ribs as well. His skin was blemished with forming bruises and various cuts from skidding and bouncing against the gravel. He looked terrible, and it was something she wasn't used to. But she was still glad that his wounds extended only that far, and nothing worse.

"Ulquiorra-san," she whispered, hastily laying him down with every remaining bit of strength she had left. Her back was killing her, but she didn't want to grimace over it in front of him. One out of the two of them had to do the protecting, and she was more than willing to take that job. "Don't move, okay?"

An expression of dismay came over his face. "You're injured..." he rasped, his exhaustedly alert eyes traveling over her features above him. To her curious surprise, his good hand reached up to blindly feel the base of her neck, just above her collarbone; where he could feel her heartbeat. He weakly pressed against it, as if reassuring himself that life still pulsed within her. "Why..."

The Hollow, too impatient to watch the tender scene unfold, rammed his horns into the wall above them in warning. Instinctively, Orihime closely hovered over Ulquiorra, covering the length of his body with her own.

With her face next to his and her lips close to his ear, she managed to whisper weakly, "Just call us even, okay?" She tried her best to sound optimistic, even in this situation. She didn't know how much it would help Ulquiorra, but she was currently the stronger one, and she couldn't afford to let the former Arrancar get hurt anymore. It hurtfully sickened her to consider it, even in meaningless passing. Until now, Orihime has never seen him so vulnerable in the heat of battle. She had watched him perform Gran Ceros of epic proportions, parry Zangetsu with his bare hand, and effortlessly evade attacks without so much as a blink of an eye. As much as it had horrified her at the time, his immense power and eerie calmness fascinated her, and he wasn't even Aizen Sousuke's top ranked warrior.

He emitted a quiet groan through gritted teeth, a fresh wave of pain racking his body. Somewhere inside, Orihime swore she could feel it, too. "... No..." he whispered persistently, his eyes forcefully on her face.

"Then what else am I supposed to do?" she questioned in a shaky voice. Although he had her best interests in mind, as well as some form of duty she didn't quite grasp, Orihime refused to let Ulquiorra do anything else, especially in this state.

At that, her head inched downward in apology.

"You aren't fighting back, little girl," the Hollow called out, backing up a few wide steps. It seemed like he was preparing for another charge. "Did you give up?"

Orihime turned her attention back to the enemy, noticing that his horns lowered further down, now much closer to her and Ulquiorra's level on the ground. He scraped back a hoofed foot, and then another, reminiscent of an angered bull the girl remembered seeing on television once. Except this time, she was the red target dangling from the mastador's fingers.

However, she promised herself that she would be there for Ulquiorra and be his friend; that she would never turn her back on him, because she was literally all he had now that he was exiled by Soul Society and scorned by her nakama.

Orihime pushed herself upright and shifted her footing, pivoting her heel so that she crouched protectively in front of Ulquiorra. She glared at the Hollow with unwavering nerve. Her sharpened, silver-gray eyes told him her answer.

 _Never._.. s _o stop this._

He chuckled with ridiculing superiority. "Useless..."

_"I know where she's coming from... speaking from my own experience, but she's more sensitive—"_

_"Oi. Listen, Inoue. You're still really weak from Hueco Mundo. So don't use your powers, all right?... Please. It's for your safety—"_

_"Inoue-san, I never want to see you helpless again. I will protect you—"_

_"Inoue, sorry. But just rest for now—"_

_Stop!_

_"—As for you... I will have you removed from the war front."_

_STOP!_

_"—A warrior who has lost his strength will only get in the way."_

As the demeaning memories flooded her mind, Orihime let out a tearfully enraged cry, shooting a hand forward as the Hollow charged at her again.

\- { - } -

"The fuck?" Grimmjow breathed, more questions bubbling within him than generalizations and answers. Wasn't her power event rejection? Wasn't that what her entire arsenal was based around? "If she didn't reject it, then what do you call it?"

By now, Rukia had stopped acknowledging him, choosing to concentrate on washing her cup rather than on soothing his tense bafflement.

"Oi!" he shouted at her, hitting his fist against the table. "Don't fucking ignore me!"

Rukia took a moment to twist around, a somewhat petulant look in her violet eyes as she quickly put a finger to her lips to shush him.

"You can't shut me up!" Grimmjow growled. He watched in spiteful satisfaction as she flinched under his gaze; her action barely visible, but obvious to someone like him. "Finish what you start," he continued in a lower, but more threatening tone, "You ain't leavin' Grimmjow fucking Jaegerjaquez out."

Rukia turned off the water tap, her eyes staying skeptically on the blue-haired man in her company. "If this is your way of redemption," she snapped, "then there's no way I'm telling you any more."

"Do you _want_ me to wring your neck, Chibi?"

"Do _you_ want to face my Sode no Shirayuki?" she challenged, stepping toward him. "Or did you forget that you're in a locked gigai?"

"Che. I don't need a zanpakutou to defeat you."

"Well, your brute strength alone can't," she shot at him, beyond irritated. "Look, Grimmjow. In case you haven't noticed, the fact that Orihime cared about you guys enough to revive you isn't enough to warrant anything out of me. I made a slip of tongue, just like you did earlier." She frowned. "I guess we can just forget all of this even—"

"Hell no!" Grimmjow broke in hotly. "It's too late to take that shit back!"

Rukia exasperatedly muttered something under her breath, her dark eyes settled somewhere on the ground.

He sent a nasty look her way. "Okay, I'll bite," he replied after a moment, his tone tight and unadmittedly defeated. "I did promise Princesa to keep this a secret, but if you don't say nothin', then I won't."

She raised both brows, surprised of his cooperation, and then prodded him civilly with a nod.

"La Princesa can't heal," he said, "and probably can't do the other shit she does. She was fuckin' crazy-upset about it, too."

"So, she lost her powers," Rukia reasoned logically.

He nodded affirmatively.

"Why would she want that as a secret? Ichigo already told her she couldn't use her powers." There was a fleck of something weird in her eyes that Grimmjow barely caught, but didn't understand what it could be. Reading people was Tia's talent; not his. "—No," she corrected herself immediately. She continued on at a fainter volume, as if thinking out loud. "So they're really doing it..."

"What is it _now_?"

She didn't answer; instead, the petite shinigami gestured toward the door. "Outside." Without waiting for him to respond, she began making her way outside, intending to continue the conversation there. Grimmjow had no choice but to follow.

The door closed behind the male. He let Rukia lead him to the side of the house and clinic, a much darker area, under an overhead patio and in front of railed shrubbery, where two empty parking spaces sat. She leaned against the wall on the adjacent side, arms still guardedly crossed. Her head lowered to a thoughtful bow. She looked like she was formulating something in her mind.

Grimmjow chose to wander over to the closer parking space, sitting himself down on bar-shaped barrier.

"Corrosion."

He hoped that she didn't see him jump at the sudden sound of her voice. "What?" he asked gruffly.

"Corrosion; and vaporization," she went on solemnly. "Practically the opposite of what she normally does when she rejects something. Basically, if you watch what happened in her spells, the _way_ everything is rejected, you start to notice that everything re-materializes little by little."

"I know," Grimmjow grunted. "I saw when she healed my arm in Hueco Mun—" He suddenly noticed that Rukia, now directly in front of him, held up a flashlight, casting light on something else that was inches from his nose. All he was able to see at that moment was a page in a sketchbook with poorly-drawn and hastily-colored shapes on it. He couldn't identify a _thing_ within the drawing. "—What the hell are you doing?" he asked in an even voice.

"This is done to help you understand," Rukia said with utmost seriousness. "It helps to have a visual aid."

"You call this piece of shit a visual aid?"

She poked him hard in the chest with the edge of her sketch pad. Being physically stronger than Ichigo, Grimmjow hardly flinched. "Look at it!" she demanded curtly, bringing the drawing back up to his face. "Outside of the yellow dome is Orihime. Inside of it are shinigami, Vizards, and Hollows!"

Grimmjow pulled back, trying to see the whole picture. He still didn't understand what anything in the drawing was except for the yellow barrier he's seen before in real life, but he would take Rukia's word for it. "Well," he began, "what the fuck's she doing, then?" He furrowed a brow, actually thinking about it. "Is she... rejecting the injuries of all those people at once?"

All of a sudden, he saw in her eyes the same expression she had when he mentioned driving his fist through her body again. "Look, I've already said too much," she murmured. "My nakama and I... we made an agreement. I made a mistake; this drawing wasn't meant for your eyes—"

"You didn't even answer why the damn _princesa_ can't use her powers!" he interjected with a huff. "Look. I don't know what the hell you're pulling, but you already told me this much; might as well finish it off."

Rukia gave him a long, scrutinizing look. She was trying to decide whether or not it was safe to tell Grimmjow. And at last, she sighed, defeated, but the expression in her eyes never relaxed from its vigilant state. "Fine. But this conversation _never_ happened."

"Tch. Fine by me."

She cleared her throat. "Well," she began, "sometime after Orihime destroyed the Hougyoku, Ichigo, Renji, Chad, Ishida, and I found her unconscious in the middle of the desert. There was a lot of difficulty locating her, because her spiritual aura was so low, but we were successful after a collective effort." Her gaze sank lower than it already was. "She was nearly dead."

Grimmjow didn't react; he only waited to hear the rest of the story. Things were obviously not adding up, but he expected that things would fall in place by the end of the shinigami's spiel.

"What struck us odd was that her fairies seemed a little weak, but otherwise, fine. But because she uses them in battle, and that they manifest depending on _her_ will, they shouldn't have been able to appear." She glanced at Grimmjow in the darkness. "We didn't know what to assume then, but her Shun Shun Rikka were able to explain it to us."

The turquoise-headed man scowled. "What I'd say is that whatever she did didn't require the fairies," he articulated contemplatively.

"Ah, that's right!" she chirped despite the somber subject manner. She clapped her hands together, appeased. "You're not as stupid as I thought you were."

"Hey! Don't mix me up with that neon-headed—!"

"Anyway," Rukia cut in, right back on topic, "you're right. Her corroding spell is the one where she _doesn't_ use the fairies at all. In fact, it's not something from her Shun Shun Rikka, considering the name."

"... Then where the hell's it from?" He had an eyebrow raised at her.

"They didn't know that much," she replied, looking away. "The only told us what you figured out, and that at all costs, the safest thing to do was for them to use all their power to not submit to Orihime's will, because doing so might trigger the other spell. We understood it would be a difficult task for them, but it was probably for the best." Her eyes became skeptically clouded as she uttered her next words. "That's probably a good idea, anyway, having her refrain from using her powers... in order to help them out."

Grimmjow sighed, running a hand through his short locks. This was really too much information for someone like him. He could understand things at face value, but once he tried to read underneath Rukia's words, he realized that he was coming up with even more questions than what he started with. There were so many holes, but he had a feeling that not even the short young woman before him even knew that much; that, or wasn't willing to divulge much else. _And why do I even care? Does this even have to do with how I showed up in Soul Society?_

 _"_ Everyone had their theories," Rukia continued, without realizing how much of a muddle Grimmjow's mind was in. "But most of the Gotei 13 concluded that the Hougyoku had influence on Orihime's powers and permanently amplified them... among other things..." She paused, as if with the intentionality to leave something out.

Although he was not as diligent or silently sharp as his more serious counterparts, Grimmjow saw this quite clearly. "And then?" he nudged, his voice surly. Not all of it added up. "Why can't she use the fourth spell? What's wrong with it?"

She stared at him with anxious violet eyes again and didn't say anymore. Lost in memories, he took it. Traumatizing ones.

 _What the—? Fuck this._ The questions were too much, and with his head beginning to throb, he really just wanted to go home and lie down. Moreover, he took Rukia's long, resulting silence as a hint to leave. The air was too uncomfortable for his liking. "See you at school," he managed to mutter before he forced himself to his feet.

"Don't tell anyone what you know. Not even Ichigo. He won't like that you know what we know."

He stopped, his head perking up at the words. He stifled a snicker, because this was just too ironic. Out of all the Resurrected, _he_ was the one entrusted with such a major secret. _Whoop-dee-fucking-doo,_ he thought, just imagining how much stress it would be if anyone, namely his fellow former Arrancars, became suspicious if something slipped. _Oh, and Princesa. Especially her, because this entire secret society bullshit revolves around her!_

"Grimmjow?" Rukia spoke up again, her tomboyish voice rousing him out of his musings. "You better keep your word."

"Yeah, yeah," he grunted, casting her an annoyed look. "I won't say anything. But if Tia the Psychic Bitch or Ulquiorra the Loyal Protector get on my ass for whatever reason, it's not my fault."

"We'll cross that bridge if we get there. Bye, Grimmjow."

With a distracted nod, he began to exit the Kurosaki property. _I'll just have to not think about it,_ Grimmjow reassured himself. _Act normal. Act fuckin' normal._ But the funny thing was, Rukia probably didn't even tell him everything, and he was already freaking out about keeping secrets.

"Wait! Grimmjow!"

The man, just as he hit the sidewalk, turned swiftly, finding the dark-haired woman at his tail, peeking up at him with a hard, perplexed look on her face. "Did you feel that?" she asked him urgently.

He stared at her doubtfully at first, but as a warm, familiar reiatsu began to wrap around his senses, his light-hued eyes rounded with understanding.

\- { - } -

Dandelion yellow was never really Orihime's favorite color. But she has never been so glad to see it until now, because by some miracle, her eyes were suddenly engulfed by a filter of that wondrous color, the triangular force field as strong and sturdy as any stone wall and bright enough to (riskily) illuminate her nighttime surroundings.

The long horns of the bull-Hollow clashed with her shield like a great blade holding out against another, the deadlocking _clang_ resonating in the air. With a loud grunt, the Hollow pushed on.

However, she refused to back down. Energy within her surged as the shield launched forward like a battering ram, slamming the Hollow into the air much in the same way he had backhanded her and Ulquiorra earlier.

The Hollow crashed a few yards away, skidding to a stop on its backside.

Orihime didn't question the confounded look that it held just before the attack. After all, it was only now she was able to defend herself in a much more efficient manner. But not even she expected such a degree of amplification. For a brief moment, she stood frozen at what she had just done, her gray eyes piercing the air with astonishment. She had never used so much force in an attack, let alone use her defensive technique as an offensive one.

_Was I ever... ?_

For a second, an image of her shielding Ichigo in Las Noches crossed her mind. Back then, tried as she might, she hadn't been strong enough to keep the Espada from shattering it. The crushing sound of her glass house of a barrier echoed in her ears as if she was really hearing it again. In comparison, it had seemed so fragile.

She cast a peripheral glance back at Ulquiorra. She couldn't tell if he was still conscious or not, but she didn't have time to assess him just yet. Taking advantage of the situation, Orihime pulled herself to her feet, despite the enraging, burning pain in her back. She gritted her teeth, taking slow, deep breaths to take her mind off whatever possible injuries she had, although it surprised her that her spine wasn't broken.

But with every existing fiber of working muscle in her body, the healer lunged forward, commanding her shield to plow into the Hollow, much stronger than the previous. Her enemy was knocked back into the ground, with shallow, but not mortal cracks evident on its face.

Sadly, that was where her strength ended. She felt something within her suddenly dive, as if her energy began to shrink. A car running out of gas.

It disappointed her. _This can't be... all I can do, can it?_

What was going on?

 _"_ Santen Kesshun," she uttered. She held a single, sluggish hand out, palm aimed outward. "I reject."

She put all her heart into those words; every remnant of strength she had remaining. She thought of Ulquiorra putting his own life on the line for her, his anguished green eyes asking why she would do the same for him. She thought of her determination to show her nakama that she was just as strong and passionate as they were, that she had that same enduring drive; that she could repeat that strength she apparently showed when she rejected the Hougyoku.

... She focused all of that into her spell, which manifested in a reluctant flicker of light, a spiraling triangle that slammed once again into her fastly crippling enemy. The shield succeeded in forcing back the Hollow, whose face was beyond recognition now, but there was only so much she could do, and it wasn't enough to totally destroy it.

Orihime didn't know whether it was because of her sudden musing of doubt or not, but the shield suddenly flashed again, like a warning signal, before disappearing again.

_No!_

"Can't be..." she whimpered softly, clawing lamely at the air, as if she could grasp the shield and hold it still; to keep it from failing her.

_Why!_

_"Orihime-sama."_

Alarmed, Orihime quickly lifted her hands to cover her ears, although the feminine, uncharacteristically grave voice echoing around her seemed to be coming from within, from the magic behind her hairpins. She surely didn't see anyone else around her but Ulquiorra and the Hollow, who was now slowly struggling to his feet.

"Lily-san?" she mouthed uncertainly.

_"We only did what we could to save your life and his, but we can't intervene anymore."_

A hot, sinking feeling began to inch its way into her stomach.

She thought she was the mistress of her Shun Shun Rikka, the one the fairies answered to without question; so why were they letting her walk into harm's way now? Why would they ever _refuse_ to service her when the obvious danger was standing there in front of her? "You're kidding..."

 _"You can't feel_ _it_ _like we do,"_ Lily continued firmly, _"but believe us when we say it's for your protection. That's what we were created to do."_

Orihime glared at the ground with a spark of distrustful petulance in her eyes. "And this pain, too? These injuries?" she asked, unexpectedly harsh. "Was this also for my protection?"

 _"... We did what we allowed ourselves to do. Please trust us, Orihime-sama. We won't let you die... but..."_ She didn't finish.

Her very own powers were turning against her. She didn't understand. She _just didn't understand_. "Why...?" she murmured, finally breathing aloud the one thing that had been echoing in her mind throughout most of this fight. What right did Lily and the others have to tell _her_ what to do when it was _her_ powers? None, right? They addressed her as _-sama_ , so that commanded some sort of respect and obedience.

_Right?_

"No more games, Human," the Hollow announced darkly, making his presence known once again. The healer felt the voice of Lily go completely silent, disappearing once the reality of the battle set back in.

Great. No explanation for the mystifying words.

"Let's finish this... weak little girl."

Orihime silently tossed him a glassy-eyed glare, not willing to accept such a judgment, despite the turn of events.

\- { - } -

Fast, lithe footsteps echoed through the empty, unassuming streets as Rukia sought to catch up with Orihime, whose reiatsu suddenly heightened.

She immediately regretted letting Ichigo handle this on his own. She was just out of range of detecting the normal flow of Orihime's reiatsu, and thus, assumed that things were going smoothly, but with its sudden chaotic rise, she realized that something went awry. Moreover, something _else_ might make it worse, and Rukia had to get to Orihime before it happened. Just in case.

As she rounded a corner, she started to feel the healer's reiatsu better; she was getting close. The aura was still a fiery one; like solar warmth in her mind's sensory department. It may seem cozy to outsiders if they ever got to feel it, but to Rukia, it was haunting. It was reminiscent of—

 _It's no good to think about that,_ she reminded herself, forcing herself to turn back to the situation at hand.

Just in time, too, because the petite shinigami suddenly felt the reiatsu evaporate. Quite abruptly at that; as if her spiritual pressure was a flickering match light and someone had pinched it to extinguish the flame.

Did Orihime overdo whatever she had tried to do? With many scenarios going through her head, Rukia hoped it was not one of the bad cases.

Up ahead, as she sprinted through a sleepy neighborhood where the houses were gated by red brick walls on either side of the street, Rukia found the injured and bleeding redhead standing despondently but protectively in front of a lying Ulquiorra, who was barely moving except for the short, ragged rising and falling of his chest. The two of them looked pretty beat up, but the encounter seemed like it was far from over.

 _The Shun Shun Rikka decided to listen to Orihime_ , Rukia deduced, understanding what the spike in her spiritual pressure meant. _And then they changed their minds, I imagine._

At a safe distance from the scene, she leaped high, landing lightfootedly onto the wall, which was just wide enough for someone of Rukia's stature to run on. With her zanpakutou in one hand, and her arms spread outward and slightly behind her in a balanced airplane run, she dashed forward.

She had to barge in quickly. From the looks of Orihime's and Ulquiorra's conditions, she wouldn't be able to last very much longer.

 _Sorry, Orihime_.

\- { - } -

Orihime suddenly felt the presence of a new spiritual aura behind her, on the brick wall she had been slumped against before. She recognized its signature immediately.

_Kuchiki-san...?_

Before she knew it, there was a second-long glimpse of black that soared over her head, followed by a loud swish of metal. And lastly, there was a echoing cry of pain from the Hollow as it was cleansed.

Again, Orihime was saved.

_Story of my life._

The simplicity of Rukia's attack did not help Orihime's already waning self-esteem, even if she did understand that from experience, the shinigami had fought much more difficult enemies.

The dark-haired girl turned to her, sheathing her Sode no Shirayuki. She had a cautiously inquisitive expression on her face, as if she had witnessed something abnormal about Orihime, even thought she didn't see the vibrant-haired teenager do anything.

Orihime didn't care to answer unasked questions; nor did she have the energy to. Instead, she fell to her hands and knees in front of the once-again conked out Ulquiorra. Her jaded gray eyes traveled over him, her hand unconsciously reaching out to tenderly stroke the ex-Hollow's hair. Somewhere in her sore, embittered heart, she was glad that she at least successfully protected him, although it hurt her to see him this way.

 _But now you know how everyone made me feel..._ she muttered silently to him, as she opened her mouth to recite her next spell. "Souten Kisshun," she murmured. "I reject."

And there was nothing. Absolutely nothing else she could do for him.

She knew it was her fairies' doing.

Orihime gritted her teeth as she tried to ignore the frustrated tears forming in her eyes. The times she had healed when no one else could were her proudest instances, but no one would even grant her that?

How could she prove, under Rukia's and her other nakama's doubtful eyes, that she was truly equal to them? Why wasn't her rejecting the Hougyoku enough? Was it because they were under the impression she couldn't kill? Was it because they still saw her as sickly?

Not wanting to face these facts anymore, and wishing no more than to suppress it all, she lowered herself to him so that she could bury her wet eyes into the crook of his neck. She was, all of a sudden, horribly aware of her injuries, and only dug her face deeper into him, fighting off the pain that was now rolling through her body in throbbing waves.

"I could have finished that Hollow off," she breathed to the dark-haired girl in a stifled, trembling voice. It seemed like she was trying to convince the shinigami of her capabilities, although it sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself.

"I don't think the back of your uniform is red because of Valentine's Day tomorrow," Rukia replied quietly, pointing out the state of her uniform. "It's dangerous over-exerting yourself."

"Kurosaki-kun does all the time."

"But he has several release forms and an insane amount of reiatsu," Rukia argued soberly.

"But you do it, t—"

"Enough," the shinigami interjected, her voice unusually sharp. After a beat, she added in a more delicate tone, "You shouldn't be wasting your energy arguing."

Orihime knew that all she _needed_ to feel was comfort in Ulquiorra's safety and her own, but it wasn't enough. Her shared secret with Grimmjow had turned into a bust, and the words of Lily were repeating over and over in her head like stabbing torture. She didn't know how she was going to face him later. He was going to have questions.

Just then, running footsteps came within earshot, announcing the delayed arrival of Ichigo, who slid to a haphazard stop before the two girls.

Orihime managed tilt her head slightly toward him, her peripheral vision catching sight of his confounded expression, as if he didn't expect his shinigami counterpart to be there. "Rukia?" he asked weakly. Without waiting for a reply, he then turned to Orihime, at whom his eyes widened considerably. She didn't know what she looked like to him, but she obviously didn't look too pretty. "Inoue..."

"Great job getting here on time," Rukia said forcefully, her tone exceedingly angry. "If it weren't for me—"

"I got attacked by more Hollows, all right?" Ichigo argued, albeit in a small, guilt-ridden voice. "Seemed like an infestation or something. They weren't gonna let me go." He paused, his mouth twisted in an exasperated frown.

"Whatever," Rukia said. "It's more important getting both of them to Ushouda Hachigen. He needs to heal them fast."

Orihime's chest lurched at the words. When was the last time she needed someone else to heal _her_?

The orange-haired shinigami approached her, squatting down at her side. He gasped sympathetically through clenched teeth at whatever happened to her back, and inspected the rest of her body, looking for a way to lift her without aggravating her injures. "Looks like I'm gonna have to sling you over my shoulder," he told her gently. "Surprised you didn't break anything. Bones of steel, huh?"

"I'll walk," she broke in. "Just carry Ulquiorra-san."

There was no politeness in her tone, something not easy for Ichigo to hear. Used to Orihime being endlessly kind and grateful toward him, his eyes lowered, a little offended. But she knew that he understood why. He wasn't good at apologizing, and more often than not, Rukia was the one who did it for him. "Inoue, I..." he began quietly, but didn't bring himself to finish.

"Ulquiorra-san's hurting worse than I am," she said in a strained voice as she forced herself to her feet, purposely ignoring whatever Ichigo wanted to say.

His stare wandered to the former Arrancar, the expression on his face souring a bit. However, he reluctantly obeyed her. The three were silent as Ichigo hoisted him carefully over his shoulder. After adjusting the additional weight on him, he turned to Orihime with a hand out, offering to help support her on the walk to the Vizards'.

Keeping still, she stared at his outstretched fingers broodingly.

From the side, Rukia turned to her in concern. "Does it hurt to move, Ori—"

"What's happening to me?" Orihime sputtered from out of the blue in a crestfallen whisper. "Why can't I..."

Although she wasn't really directly facing either of her friends, she could practically _hear_ the frown on Rukia's face; otherwise, the female shinigami said nothing.

"... I don't know," Ichigo answered for both of them, his voice suddenly distant; somewhat laced with pity. "But you shouldn't think about it right now."

"I was out for so long!" she cried, her tiredly thin, but hysterical tone abrupt. "You saw more than I did, so how can _you_ not know anything! How can I not think about it!"

"Well, maybe you're still in recovery mode, Inoue," the bright-haired shinigami argued with bridled impatience.

"Why, Kurosaki-kun!"

He threw his free arm up. "How the hell would I know!" Hating the fact that he actually yelled at her, he brought his hand up to massage the bridge of his nose. "Inoue," he began more calmly. "You _fucked up_ the Hougyoku. Do you remember that?"

"..."

"So you should know how strong that thing was," he continued as if she answered in the affirmative. "It granted a huge load of power. A godly amount. It would take a lot out of someone. Possibly death."

"I know," she said in a low voice. "I _know_ , Kurosaki-kun—"

"No. _Listen_ ," he pressed. "What you did took a _fuckton_ out of you. We were scared, Inoue... scared that we lost you. Even when we figured out that you were only passed out and recovering your energy, we still got scared that you'd never wake up."

"But—"

"Maybe you're still not strong enough to summon all your powers yet," Ichigo guessed.

What words to use. She closed her eyes, the words reverberating throughout her mind like dreary tower bells.

"I was never strong enough," she said in a low voice, her tone hauntingly melancholic. "Was I?"

There was silence from him, and then an intake of breath, as if he were going to say something to correct her. But in the end, he didn't protest; he only exchanged a grim glance with Rukia.

Orihime's heart twisted painfully. It wasn't because of her former feelings toward the orange-haired teen and her expectations of him; it was far from that, but it didn't help her self-esteem. She should have expected such a reaction after saying what she did. She wasn't trying to fish for compliments.

It was just that the reality of it was a little too much.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra was rudely awakened by the sunlight glaring down on him. Sunlight. In February. And how great that he happened to be facing his window while sleeping.

He sat up when he heard voices outside of his room. It sounded like Kisuke and Tessai, but he soon discovered that there was a third person among them.

One who slid the door open with one clean push.

"Ulquiorra-san!" greeted the bright voice of Orihime. She was sitting with her heels tucked under her. She had a bag with her; a pink, cloth thing with a drawstring to close it. The contents of it seemed to be box-shaped. There were more important things to address, however. Like the fact that she looked just fine... as if last night never happened.

In fact, he felt fine as well. Looking down at himself, he found that he had been healed to perfection. Whatever searing, bonebreaking pain he had felt the night before had become only a bad dream or a distant memory.

"You," he managed to grunt groggily. "... Woman..."

Her smile dropped slightly, understanding what he meant. "It wasn't me..." She sounded apologetic. "Hachigen-san healed us." The brightness of her voice didn't match the much sadder expression in her eyes. "He's just like me! Well, except for the Vizard part, but you know what I mean!"

She picked up her pink bag and let herself into Ulquiorra's room, going on as if he didn't notice the obvious change in her voice, a crushed tremble that began to manifest itself through that gradually emptying smile. "We're both still recuperating, so we're missing class today. Tia-san said she was going to take notes for you at school, and I'm sure I can borrow Ishida-kun's notes later."

He was too observant to not know that she tended to blurt out random nonsense when she was trying to hide something. Ulquiorra suddenly recalled her deer-caught-in-the-headlights look just before he intervened, an act of pure impulse. Although knew he was was no more than a Plus in a human gigai, he still took the attack meant for her. And even then, it wasn't enough. He wasn't supposed to have passed out from the impact, nor was _she_ supposed to have taken such dire hits for him.

His eyes traveled over her soft, creamy skin as she spoke. It was now clear of bruises, cuts and whatever else had tarnished it the night before. Had he ever appreciated this face? Had he ever valued this _person_ to this degree up to now? If he had ever taken her for granted, he quickly regretted it, because he suddenly found it a huge relief that she was no longer hurt; that she could still smile that silly grin of hers, eye him with various looks of curiosity, and furrow her brows and wrinkle her forehead in unnecessary concern for him. She could still blush, giggle, and slide her arms around him with endearingly strange intentions.

"It's really funny, I guess... isn't it?" she continued on. "You only had one day at school and already you're missing—" She froze, stunned when his hand suddenly jutted out toward her face. His fingers ran over her cheek, smooth as glass, as if to check if she was truly in tip-top shape. Ulquiorra's expression remained as hard as ever, with his sharp emerald eyes boring into her. He just wanted to make sure that...

_She is okay._

"I'm okay," she told him with a flustered giggle, echoing his thoughts. "Hachigen-san did a great job, didn't he?... He..." She faltered, her expression turning more shameful as her gaze dropped to the floor.

He could already tell what was on her mind. The girl's sad stare said everything.

"Were you not able to heal? Or attack?" Ulquiorra probed carefully, his hand dropping. "You should have been able to defend yourself more efficiently than what transpired."

His words seemed to sting her, for she reacted with a noticeable wince. "I-I couldn't..." she replied, her voice so small that he didn't hear her at first. She tried to smile again, in order to keep the conversation from being so heavy, but it resulted in a bittersweet expression, one where her orbs of gray became lost in hopeless thought. "Not everything worked," she murmured.

His eyes rounded a fraction. "... What?"

"Only one of my spells worked," she asserted regretfully, a little louder but more unsteady. She stared so hard at the ground that she could burn a hole through it. "I could only use my Santen Kesshun to push the Hollow back..."

"Why—"

"I couldn't do anything, Ulquiorra-san," she broke in with glassy eyes. "You saved me and I couldn't do anything to help you."

For a second, he shut his eyes, disagreeing with her statement wholeheartedly. The memory of the girl's beaten, body over his own fleeted across his mind again. His stomach churned, remembering the words that dared spilled out of her mouth.

_"Just call us even, okay?"_

He didn't want to call it even. He didn't want her payback. In the long run, he owed her much more than she thought she owed him. But even if he told her that, the selfless little woman before him would willfully ignore his statements.

"Do not say such things," he muttered expressionlessly, as if telling her would make it obvious of who was at fault.

Orihime didn't hear him. "I'm so sorry..." she choked out, tears coursing down her face.

"..." He blinked, a little surprised that she would be so hard on herself about last night. What did she have to be sorry for? At least she had _some_ sort of defense mechanism. He was naught but a helpless rag doll, tossed around with ill-intentioned apathy. And the more he thought about that fact, the worse he felt.

"I should be the one to apologize," he said softly, his voice barely detectable above her sobs. He stared at her with hidden tenderness, an emotion apparent only in his eyes if one squinted. He didn't know what else to say to make her stop crying, but in the end, words weren't necessary. Awkwardly, he set a hand on her head in comfort, hoping the warmth—both physically and emotionally—of the gesture was enough to ease her.

Her body jolted slightly from muffled hiccups, and she was unable to keep from sniffling, but otherwise, it seemed to have worked. Her tears were beginning to subside. However, he didn't want to change subjects just yet. He still had questions that he hoped wouldn't result in another round of weeping.

"We were rescued, weren't we?" he asked her. "By Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"Kuchiki-san," she answered with a slow sigh. If he didn't know any better, he would have missed the bitterness in her tone. "But Kurosaki-kun came, too."

"What did they say about you?"

Orihime hesitated at first. "That... I was still weak from getting rid of the Hougyoku."

He nodded. He was able to see their reasoning from that angle, mainly because he knew, first hand, how powerful the Hougyoku was and how much it could grant a person. "That is plausible. If that is the reason, then you shouldn't be crying," he told her. "You were capable enough to reject it. That is strength."

She nodded in understanding, looking away from his penetrating gaze. But she didn't believe him.

"You did all you could do last night, Onna," he said in a stern type of coax. "I should thank you."

"But... Ulquiorra-san..."

"Is there something else?" he queried, wondering why she still seemed so unsettled.

"No," she said after a suspicious pause, fiddling with the drawstring of the pink sack. "Never mind... I just—I don't want to think about stuff like that anymore." She sighed helplessly. "Ulquiorra-san, I don't deserve your gratitude..."

"I think the opposite."

She opened her mouth, as if to counter him, but she quickly shut it again. As the succinct, but densely meaningful statement registered, a faint blush tinted her cheeks. "Well... I should thank you, too," she finally replied.

Something about her magnetized him. He didn't know what that was. It was unexplainable. He has seen her smile before, and her flushed face, and those had never affected him so greatly until now. But maybe he didn't literally have to _see_ anything.

"I did what I wanted to do."

How foreign for those words to come out of his mouth, after spending so much time doing what he was ordered to do, without conscience, without compassion, and without a second guess.

He once followed a powerful man, but not until now has he ever followed his heart.

"Well," she said with a small giggle. "Me too, then." Orihime set the black, glossy box of food out in front of him on the ground (since he didn't even have a table in his tiny bedroom) and held out a pair of chopsticks.

The box, it turned out, was filled with rice, and on top of it... well, he assumed were pieces of egg, chicken, and red bean paste. The chicken, egg, and red bean just did not look right together. The first two components, he understood, but why would—

"I felt bad about last night," she explained. "So I made you lunch!"

"Lunch?"

"Eat up, Ulquiorra-san!"

He took the chopsticks from her, and with uncharacterisitc hesitance, dove into her strange food, making his first bite.

She watched him concentratedly as he ate, waiting for his reaction, but he made no expression. He chewed mutely, looking down at his food thoughtfully.

After taking second, confirmatory taste, he turned to her. "Onna," he said, interrupting the silence. He gestured to the bento box with the end of his chopsticks. "This is terrible."

"Eh?" She pouted. Just when he thought he offended her, he saw that she made a disbelieving face instead. "But red bean paste is good!"

"I don't think it goes well with that chicken and egg rice bowl," he said plainly. When he noticed that she still thought he was wrong, he snorted softly. "Strange woman."

She smiled, anyway. "It's okay. I'll eat it, if you don't want it. We'll go out and get you something later."

He offered her a look, as if to say, _help yourself_.

And she did. Ulquiorra watched her with interest. It was definitely a side of Orihime he was not used to: so chipper and satisfied with her meal, so unapologetic about her food etiquette, and so free and unguarded.

"You eat a lot," he observed. "And quickly."

She paused, mid-bite. At his comment, she blushed guiltily. "Really...?"

"I was accustomed to seeing you refuse food."

"Yeah, well." She ducked her head, staring down at the food shyly. "I was trying to rebel against you."

"You did plenty of that." He quirked an eyebrow. "Or perhaps it was because we did not include unusual additions that you apparently enjoy so much."

"But it's good!" she insisted, as if _he_ was the weird one. It was then she realized something. She gasped. "Ulquiorra-san... I didn't know you were capable of teasing me! That's kind of mean..."

"Capable?" he repeated. "You really are strange..."

"Maybe it isn't a bad thing to be."

And then Orihime and Ulquiorra glanced at each other, that odd habit never failing to make itself known. She smiled, while he let a more or less friendly smirk grace his features.

No matter how trivial the conversation was; no matter how many times they fell into silence...

_Spending time just like this... is nice._

\- { - } -

It was after school the next day, and it had been Orihime's turn to share the responsibility of cleaning the room. With the daily student chore completed, her classmates had all already departed. The redhead was the last one left inside.

Other than a regular school day, it was also Valentines' Day, and of course, it didn't go unnoticed by one student named Chizuru. While Orihime appreciated the efforts of her friend to win her heart, she just didn't feel that way toward the brown-haired girl. But nonetheless, the bespectacled student continued to glomp and comically pursue Orihime, taking every rejection by her and all of her other comrades (who would often step in to prevent Chizuru from making a move) with a grain of salt.

"Orihime."

Unexpectedly roused out of her thoughts, the girl looked up from her desk, a smile automatically spreading across her face as she faced her best friend, Tatsuki. "Tatsuki-chan—"

"Who are they?" She practically stomped into the room.

Orihime's expression faltered, noticing that the dark-haired girl was not smiling, but scowling with a hurt look in her eyes. She realized what this was about; the redhead knew her too well not to. Why else would the martial arts expert look so upset? "...Um..."

"Don't play dumb. Who are those kids in that second-year class?" Tatsuki practically demanded. "The ones who wait for you after school? There's something off and weird about them, but you _and_ Ichigo seem to already know them!"

Orihime _really_ didn't want to deal with this now, but there was no way for her to escape this situation. She should have expected this encounter, but where was she going to start? There was so much Tatsuki didn't know and would never understand nor approve. Sometimes it felt suffocating for the redhead, knowing her best friend was protecting her like she was made of crystal, but not something like a diamond. _If she knew about my kidnapping..._

"That black-haired guy," Tatsuki said, furrowing a brow suspiciously. "He looks familiar, and not in a good way—"

"Ul—er, Uruki-san—uh, -senpai," Orihime explained quietly. She turned away. "He... uh..." She wasn't fast on her excuses.

"How do you know him? How do you know all three of those transfer students?"

"... He's... special." Tatsuki's stare was fearsome, even for Orihime, who had seen many dangerous pairs of eyes before. It was worse being looked at as the root of hurt and betrayal rather than as expendable hostage.

"Special?" Tatsuki echoed disapprovingly. "How about Ichigo? I thought you—"

"That was the old me, I guess." Orihime just wanted to get out of that room. Under Tatsuki's scrutiny, she suddenly felt smothered. Even though they were supposed to be best friends, the martial artist was starting to become only one out of many of her friends who have become unreasonably overbearing.

"... Old you?" Something seem to hit Tatsuki, like a realization hitting her on a head like blunt-force trauma. She stared wide-eyed at the redhead. "Where did you disappear to?" she questioned. "Did _he_ have anything to do with it? Ichigo won't tell me _shit_ , Orihime. Not even after I tried to beat him to a bloody pulp about letting you go missing!"

"Uruki-senpai means more to me than you could—" She halted her words, not knowing what to say. How many times did she have to hide things from Tatsuki? Hell, she couldn't even tell Tatsuki his real name. Sure, the short-haired teen had a decent ability to sense Hollows, but was it enough to be part of what Orihime herself and Ichigo were part of? Her capabilities only reached so far, and she and her nakama never had any other option but to leave Tatsuki out.

And that—Orihime realized with downward spiraling dread—was probably a factor of downfall in their friendship. It showed how different their paths were becoming.

"Than I could _what_?" Tatsuki prompted. "Understand?" She sighed exasperatedly. "I know more than you think, Orihime. I'm not stupid."

"Then let it be, Tatsuki-chan," Orihime told her, trying to smile despite the nervous shakiness in her tone. "Uruki-senpai isn't a bad guy."

"Is he your boyfriend?" The question was flatly asked, but scornful all the same. Tatsuki had really been cheering for Orihime to make a move with Ichigo, but to her, it felt so long ago; part of a more innocuous time when she wasn't sure what true love was. If this had been one of those times, when the two girls would look at each other and giggle over simplistic things, the redhead would have blushed and humorously dismiss the idea.

But it wasn't like that anymore. "No," she answered easily. "Tatsuki-chan... I can't explain it, but Uruki-senpai is a special friend."

"..." Tatsuki looked a little put off by Orihime's words, but stayed silent as she observed her best friend, scanning the other girl with puzzled eyes. She didn't understand, but Orihime supposed that it was her fault; she didn't elaborate on who Ulquiorra was to her, but if she ever found out who he had been in the past, Tatsuki would have gone to great lengths to ensure he never got near the healer again.

"Will he protect you the way we do?" Tatsuki finally spoke up in inquiry. "Will he keep you from disappearing again?" Her fists at her sides shook out of anxiety.

"I don't need protection," Orihime murmured in the most ginger way possible, reaching out with warm, steady hands to cover Tatsuki's clammy ones. "From anyone."

"If you had Ichigo," the tomboy said softly, her voice almost a whisper, "then I _know_ you would've been in safe hands."

"Kurosaki-kun has Kuchiki-san," she said plainly; matter-of-factly. "And as I said—"

"Kuchiki-san?" Tatsuki repeated in bafflement, pulling her hands away from Orihime's. "Why are you so accepting of that? Weren't you in love with Ichigo? Weren't you going to fight for his heart? What's changed you, Orihime?"

Orihime frowned. This wasn't getting anywhere. "Hey," she muttered, a hint of brusqueness in her voice as she dropped her eyes to the ground. "Why won't you trust me, Tatsuki-chan? I'm not that naïve."

"What? I do tr—"

"You ask so much of me," the long-haired one went on in a timid voice. "You and the others safeguard me to the point where I feel like I'm stuck in a bubble. Isn't it enough that Kurosaki-kun and the others rescued me? That I'm safely back home?"

Tatsuki's jaw dropped. "Orihime..."

The healer felt like their friendship was a piece of silk thread in her hand, and if she was not careful, any single movement could let the delicate string slip easily through her fingers. The rift between her and Tatsuki was already growing, but with that thin little thread trying to slide through her grasping fist, it made the redhead acutely aware of how much of her old, unaware life was fading away.

"I'm sorry, Tatsuki-chan," Orihime said softly, smiling consolingly despite the circumstances. "I know you don't know them, but please trust Uruki-senpai... along with Chie-senpai and Kurijou-senpai. They're my friends, and hopefully, they'll be your friends, too."

Tatsuki shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Uruki, huh?" she sighed.

"You warmed up to everyone else," Orihime pointed out hopefully.

Too stubborn to let it go, Tatsuki turned her head away. "If you need that Uruki guy's protection rather than mine or Ichigo's, fine."

The redhead glanced at her puzzledly. It was unlike her to misunderstand. "That's not it, Tatsuki-ch—"

"Orihime..." The martial artist cut in, looking defeated. "Do whatever you want. I don't care."

"..."

"Just," she added, lowering her head so that her eyes became shadowed under her hair, "... just don't _leave_ like that again, okay?"

The two girls stood, looking at each other in silence. Neither made a move nor a sound. Tatsuki looked emotionally charged. The vibrant-haired woman, on the other hand, probably seemed devastatingly calm, but really, she was just completely speechless.

Had Orihime changed that much since being in Hueco Mundo? Did she and Tatsuki really drift apart so much that they didn't see eye-to-eye anymore? Moreover, did she make it sound like she and Ichigo were purposely leaving Tatsuki out of their lives?

They were all nakama, but it couldn't be helped. She didn't mean to make the tomboy feel useless, if that was what happened. The healer knew that feeling all-too well and hated it. Even so, she still felt like the bad guy.

But before she could formulate an apology on her lips, Tatsuki had already rushed out of the room.

Orihime felt too numb and heavy to move her feet. Thus, she couldn't chase after Tatsuki. Nor did she have the strength to call her name. What she would say to her after that, she didn't know, but at least she would have _tried._

After all, in the end, she didn't say anything when she should have.

It was a low blow to her confidence as a friend. But what was done was done. She had a feeling that this was the unfortunate start to a slightly lonelier road of life. She wasn't sure that she _lost_ her best friend, per se, but things between them haven't been the same for a while, and probably never will be again.

_All of this... on top of what happened that night._

As if in a trance, Orihime finished gathering her books up and left the classroom.

She didn't see that someone was waiting for her at the end of the hall, his figure leaning against the doorway with his bookbag strapped to his shoulder and his hands characteristically in his pockets. It wasn't until she walked past him into the stairwell that she realized that it was Ulquiorra. "Woman," he said shortly, his voice alone able to force her back to reality and freeze in her tracks. "Where are you going?"

She didn't look at him. She didn't want him to see her in a bad mood like this. She didn't want to face him, nor the other Resurrected, nor any of her other friends. "Not now, Ulquiorra-san..." she murmured, somewhat hollowly.

"What?"

"I need to be alone right now," she insisted, her eyes sinking to the ground.

"Wait." His tone was mysteriously quiet. As much as Orihime would like to examine the emotion behind the single word, she plainly didn't want to be around _anyone_.

She heard him take a step toward her. "Wo—"

" _Please_ , Ulquiorra-san," she pleaded. "Don't make me talk about it right now." After a pause, she turned to rush down the rest of the stairs, hoping he wouldn't follow.

But she thought wrong. Before she knew it, Ulquiorra's hand shot out, wrapping it firmly around her wrist before she took another step. "You will not leave," she heard him say curtly, his deep tone full of unwavering command.

His words sent a curious shiver down her spine. The way he said those words unnerved her. Unfond memories of her imprisonment dug their way into their head, and even though she was generally over the emotions and atrocities involved in Las Noches, she refused to answer such a tone of voice.

She whirled around to face him, her eyes falling on his, but this time, with a tart wariness that she barely used. "Did you forget that I'm not your prisoner anymore?"

He furrowed a brow at her. For a second, Orihime thought he looked a little hurt. And because of that, the glare she held suddenly dropped as she fought back the swell of guilt inside her chest.

"No," he answered, "but we are friends, are we not?"

Ulquiorra had used her words against her, and it openly surprised her. "Of... of course we are," she breathed. "But..."

"Then depend on me."

_Of course... He learned how to feel. Wouldn't it make sense that he learned how to sympathize, too?_

Even so, she wasn't thorougly convinced that this was the therapy she needed at the moment. "Ulquiorra-san—"

But before she went on, he mumbled something. However, Orihime didn't hear him at first. "Eh?"

"Ice cream," he repeated, not quite looking at her face. "It intrigues me."

"You want to get ice cream with me?" she guessed questioningly, blinking. "It's February."

"The sun is out."

She watched his expression, noticing the slight eagerness in his eyes. "You really want some, don't you?" she asked him.

"..." His gaze drifted to the wall.

Orihime wondered if he was a little embarrassed by wanting to eat ice cream, although she didn't understand why. Were Arrancars not allowed to like sweet foods? Or just ones named Ulquiorra Cifer?

"You don't have to say anything now," he said in a low tone, changing the subject. "But you will not wallow in such a state by yourself."

"I... I won't?" It came out more like a question, but it was because Orihime could not believe how relatively _sweet_ this man was being. This breakthrough alone persuaded her to let him drag her out for ice cream just a little more.

"Yes, you won't," he said, and smirked. "And stop looking so awestricken at me."

Self-conscious, she immediately averted her eyes. Her face felt hot.

Ulquiorra beckoned her with his chin toward the stairwell. "Come, Woman." He sauntered past her.

Orihime's ash-hued orbs trailed after his lean figure, but she barely moved herself. "But..."

After taking the first step down, he paused thoughtfully. "Please," he finally murmured, more to the ground than to her. There was a hint of something else in his voice, which she translated as something along the lines of, _Let me do this for you_.

She wasn't being delusional when she read underneath his words and his gazes. She didn't make up those translations. After being held hostage, countlessly coming face-to-face with the dangerously quiet Ulquiorra Cifer, the Cuatro Espada, Orihime had learned to read every one of his mysterious features. Within each seemingly blank stare was something else, whether it was well-hidden anger or honest curiosity.

And this moment right here, with his words both said and unsaid, made her smile with the utmost gratitude. "Okay," she said faint affection. And then she added, much louder with gusto, "Let's go!"

_Thank you, Ulquiorra-san..._

\- { - } -

Grimmjow didn't know if it was a bad idea to let Tia tag along as he returned home. The things Rukia told him were still heavy on his mind, but so far, it seemed like he was doing a good job of not looking suspicious. The blonde woman still asked about what happened two nights ago, especially with the Hollow manifestation happening in a range between Orihime's home and Ichigo's. Tia must have felt the girl's heightening reiatsu, but what she assumed about it, he didn't know. She wasn't being very nosy so far, which should be a relief. However, she was one of those quiet, calculating thinkers. For all Grimmjow knew, she could already be drawing conclusions.

 _Or worse,_ he thought humorlessly, _she might secretly have the power to read minds. Intuitive bitch._

But as long as she didn't ask him anything, and as long as he kept his mouth shut (although he more-or-less failed last time), then he shouldn't have to worry.

"Ah, the jaguar has returned home! With a friend for Valentines' Day!" Kisuke's voice rang out happily that day, fanning himself as Grimmjow and Tia approached the shop. "How early! I guess you didn't get into trouble today, Grimm-san?"

"The fuck is Valentines' Day?"

"Oh, he did," Tia answered, both she and Kisuke ignoring his question. "His punishment was done during class this time. I think it was nearly every period where he had to stand in the hallway."

"Tch. Who the fuck uses that as punishment?" the blue-haired student grumbled, displeased. "What a pain in the ass! I had my arm lopped off by Tousen in Las Noches! _That_ was fucking punishment."

"Ah, that's our Grimm-san," Kisuke commented fondly, ever the optimist. "Already adjusting to high school life—"

"How is standing in the hallway adjusting!" he yelled. "I can't help that the dumbasses in our class piss me off! I'm NOT A POTATO!" Tia and Kisuke merely watched, unresponsive, as the former Sexta went on a verbal rampage. "HOW HARD IS IT TO PRONOUNCE MY NAME RIGHT? FUCKIN' _MU_ ; NOT _MO_!" He pointed an accusing finger at Kisuke. "It's all your fault! Change my name, damn it!"

"I believe it is too late for that," Tia said calmly with a smirk.

"Anyway," the ex-captain went on, "I'm glad Tia-san decided to come by. It will make it much easier."

Both Resurrected members gave him questioning looks.

"We have a guest in the dining room," Kisuke explained. He gestured toward the shop. "She's here on behalf of the Gotei 13 to check up on you three."

"Why did you not say so earlier?" Tia asked.

"I wanted to hear about Grimm-san's day," he replied rather innocently, grinning despite Grimmjow's increasingly peeved mood. "But back to business..." He hopped up the steps of the shop and slid the door open. "Matsumoto-san! They're here!"

\- { - } -

Orihime and Ulquiorra bought ice cream at a sweets shop near the park. Both with waffle cones in hand, the redhead led the two of them to the empty playground. As soon as they settled side-by-side on a nearby bench, she pumped a fist into the air. She was in a much better mood than she was at school. " _Te gustan huevos_!" Orihime cheered in a sing-song voice.

He stared at her puzzledly. "... _I_ like eggs?" Ulquiorra translated slowly.

"... _I_ like ice cream?" she drawled with inquiry.

" _Me gusta helado_ ," Ulquiorra corrected her. The silly error lightened the serious expression on his face. " _Mujer..."_

"Oh," she said with a smile. "You know, you sound pretty cool when you speak Spanish. I should pretend to say things wrong so I can hear you speak again!"

"You don't _pretend_ , Onna," he said with blunt deadpan. "You just get things wrong."

"But I could've sworn I heard right when Sado-kun translated things for me." She pouted at her ice cream cone.

He let out a soft _hmph_. "Well, I happen to have a taste for those, anyway," he replied airily.

"You eat eggs?" she asked him, sounding nearly incredulous.

"Yes."

She adjusted her previous statement, increasing her magnitude of incredulity. "Wait... you _ate_?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Why is that so strange? The food offered to you during your confinement was the same food _we_ consumed."

"I thought it was... I don't know," she said sheepishly. "A human- or shinigami-only thing to eat regular food there. I thought you only ate other Hollows. Or didn't eat at all."

"True," he replied, "we had no need for your type of sustenance, but we ate and drank with Aizen Sousuke, Ichimaru Gin, and Tousen Kaname out of courtesy."

"Where did you even get eggs?" she wondered softly with a lick of her ice cream.

"... I'm sure there were methods of obtaining such food," Ulquiorra told her. He wasn't too sure himself.

From out of nowhere, an uncontrollable bout of giggles erupted out of her lips. "S-Sorry," she stuttered through laughter, after noticing his puzzled expression. "I j-j-just had this image of you eating Hollows th-that look like eggsss and b-b-bacon!"

He stared at her, stupefied. But nonetheless, the girl was downright infectious; he could not help but smirk at her silly joyfulness. "What kind of things go on in your head, Onna?" he asked her in an amused tone, although he knew he wouldn't get an immediate or reasonable answer out of her.

He had to admit; he was having a really good time with her. This was—what was the word? Oh, _fun_. He was having _fun_. And he realized, as she probably did, that despite the fact that they would eventually have to part for the night, he wished the day didn't have to end, that it would last longer for the sake of the pure enjoyment in her company.

Ulquiorra put the last of his cone into his mouth, somehow making even chewing the cumbersome piece look dignified and regal.

"Waaa! You ate that faster than me!" Orihime observed with a gleam of impressiveness. "And without brain freeze!"

 _Brain freeze?_ "... It was good," he replied to her bluntly, unable to come up with a more eloquent way of describing how he felt about the food.

"Want another?"

"Unlike you, I am not a glutton," he remarked. "One was sufficient enough."

"Aw, I'm not a glutton," she protested. "It's normal! I'm a growing girl!" She pointed toward herself, but at her ample chest rather than at her face like many people did.

_Ya seen these?_

With Grimmjow's words abruptly coming to mind, Ulquiorra awkwardly slid his eyes away from her. "Hn..."

Orihime finished her ice cream in haste, every now and then whimpering for a second or two about so-called 'brain freeze,' which she reassured him was normal if one ate frozen treats too fast.

He was, for some reason, unaffected by such a sensation.

"Next time we do this," Ulquiorra assured her, with a weirdly high amount of serious determination, "I will eat ice cream faster and make sure I comprehend this 'brain freeze.'"

"Ehhh? Ulquiorra-san, that's not something you should promise me..."

As the day fell to dusk, the last remnants of the sunset disappearing under the horizon, he realized that they had been sitting in this spot for hours, people watching, nature watching, and just simply relishing this peaceful day. And yet, it felt like it had just begun. It was also getting a little colder, but somehow, he still felt warm.

He glanced at her idly. _If only it was not a school night..._

Immediately feeling his eyes on her, she turned from her ice cream back to him, her pools of gray docilely meeting his. And suddenly, she quirked her brows, pleasantly surprised. A smile spread widely across her face, a beautiful one that made her eyes sparkle like precious jewels.

For the first time, a single look from a person took his breath away.

But a question remained. "What are you looking at?"

Orihime chuckled, her cheeks turning pink.

Was she laughing at him? No, correction: not _at_ him, per se. He knew very well that she was not the kind of person to do that. She was giggling _happily_ because...

"You just smiled at me, Ulquiorra-san."

 _Smiled?_ He lifted a hand to his cheek, to feel the after-effects of the smile for the first time. The muscles in his face didn't feel any different; he hadn't realized the change in his expression at all until Orihime pointed it out.

 _It must have come out naturally_ , a part of him rationalized. It was strange that it happened, but it wasn't anything aversive. Not at all.

_This must be part of being human; of being like her._

He suddenly felt Orihime press something into his other hand. Gravitating back to reality, he looked down, a small red box tied with a white ribbon patterned with gold hearts sitting warmly in his palm.

Chocolate.

"Sorry, I forgot to give it to you earlier," the redhead apologized, her face reddening more with every syllable. "But..." she didn't finish, unable to formulate a proper ending to her sentence. "... I mean—! It's okay to give chocolates to friends, too, you know?"

Sure, this holiday of sorts was more of a joke, and that he preferred that something as trivial as today did not exist, but for some reason, the little red object in his hand felt special and fiercely significant.

The fingers that had been at his cheek were now running over the ribbon, as if he was holding a sacred artifact. _This woman..._ His gaze drifted back to her, green eyes pulled into gray. _... is the same way._

She gave him another smile that he knew he was reflecting back at her. "Happy Valentines' Day, Ulquiorra-san," she said sincerely.

"Yeah," he responded quietly, gripping the box a little more securely; fondly. "... You too... Woman." Ulquiorra removed the ribbon and popped open the lid. He examined the contents, finding that they looked like what he expected pieces of chocolate to look like. But looks could be deceiving... "For both our sakes," he added, "I hope you did not make these."

"Hey...!"

\- { - } -

The two former Espadas and Matsumoto Rangiku (already in civilian clothing—low cut, at that) sat together at the dining table, cups of hot green tea before them. While Tia found it a relief that the lieutenant was not as ill-mannered toward her and Grimmjow as she expected, she couldn't refrain from feeling a sense deja vu. The newcomer didn't seem to notice, however, as she went straight to business.

"I will be here for a while," Rangiku explained as she took a careful sip. "I'm supposed to be observing the Resurrected, to make sure you guys are just living up the human life instead of, I don't know, being, well, how you guys used to be." She winked at Tia and Grimmjow. "So you guys won't give me any trouble, right?"

Tia nodded, but out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Grimmjow's sky-blue orbs on the woman's protruding chest. She wondered if he had listened at all. "I am sure you will have nothing to report to Yamamoto Genryuusai but positive remarks," the blonde responded for both herself and Grimmjow. "Ulquiorra included, although he is not here."

"Where is he, anyway?" Rangiku questioned with intrigue, raising a fine brow. She then smiled rather knowingly. "Don't tell me he's with Orihime-chan right now."

"I believe he is."

Rangiku let out a full-on laugh, one that shook her chest, to Tia's embarrassment and Grimmjow's perverted wonder. "Well, I don't think I need to worry about him, then," she managed to say. "He'll be in good hands."

Grimmjow gave her a bewildered look, his eyes on the shinigami's face this time. "What? You know about them?"

"What do you mean, _know about them_?" she repeated, even more curious than before. She happened to lean forward, her chest threatening to spill over the thin (but somehow sturdy) fabric of her t-shirt.

 _Don't look down, Grimmjow,_ Tia silently demanded, giving her companion a hard look. But then again, she didn't know why she bothered. It didn't seem like Rangiku cared if he ogled her, nor did it seem like she noticed how little the blouse covered.

"About how close they are," Grimmjow answered simply with a scheming grin. "Heh. It's gonna be great making fun of that bastard once they start fucking like rabbits."

Rangiku chuckled in response, while Tia tried to avoid the strange imagery by concentrating on the remaining liquid in her cup. The three of them, otherwise, went quiet as they finished their tea.

It wasn't until a small while later that the large-breasted strawberry blonde gave Tia a small, tentative smile. "I think I remember you now," she said casually.

"Is that so? That may explain my feeling of deja vu," the blonde replied with understated relief.

There was a strange kind of amusement in Rangiku's eyes, Tia noticed. She was sure it wasn't a fond memory the blue-eyed shinigami remembered her from, but she could tell there weren't exactly any hard feelings.

After a moment, Tia finally realized what it was. "Well," Rangiku said buoyantly, "you fought my captain. Hitsugaya Toushiro."

Bingo.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow in the blonde's direction. "Whoa-ho, _really_?" he asked with interest.

Tia turned her head to the side, unsure of how to make of the situation. Certainly, the atmosphere had become awkward. Moreover, the green-eyed woman might have even felt a bit of guilt; not only because of the fight between herself and Toushiro, but because of severely underestimating Rangiku when she ordered her Fracciones after her. Tia knew she should have taken care of the buxom shinigami herself, rather than sending her subordinates off to die.

"It should be Hitsugaya-taichou doing this assignment instead of me," Rangiku noted, a little more serious now, "but... I think it would take him a much longer time to accept the three of you, which is understandable, I guess."

 _Obviously._ The blonde could only nod with mute obedience, but still found a few things rather odd. The Matsumoto Rangiku before her was approachable and friendly, almost overly so for what happened in the Karakura Town simulation. She felt like Ulquiorra at the moment, in his reunion with Orihime. While the peace and amnesty were there, they felt undeserving.

Such forgiveness was almost... _unfathomable_.

Rangiku took a moment to observe her, tilting her head to one side. "Don't worry about anything," the shinigami said calmly. "I should learn to forgive and forget, too."

Tia was not able to understand why. Rangiku seemed like she respected her captain and was quite fond of him, and she was sure that she would have been devastated if she had killed him. It was quite fortunate, in Rangiku's perspective, that Hitsugaya Toushiro had survived through his injuries.

"But you do know what I did," Tia said, as if trying to convince her otherwise. "What I had to do."

"We all did what we had to do," Rangiku continued easily. "You fought for your side; I fought for mine. We were all under orders, Harribel-san. Surely, we could say that _I_ should be the one apologizing for _killing_ your Fracciones." She smiled grimly. "If you were close to them, that is."

Tia's heart went heavy with a bit of grievous nostalgia. Surely, she missed the three women under her, and the unique group dynamic she had grown to be fond of. But now it was too late. The Tres Espada's Fracciones were casualties of war. "I suppose..."

"Oi..." Next to the two females, Grimmjow let out a sound of irritation and rolled his eyes. "Do we really have to listen to this mushy shit?"

"I think it's endearing!" Kisuke's voice suddenly chimed in, the ex-captain making himself known after sneaking in mid-conversation.

"I don't think you were invited into the conversation, Kisuke," the elderly voice of the cat-formed Yoruichi remarked from the doorway.

The shop owner waved his fan-occupied hand dismissively. "It's not like _you_ weren't listening, too."

"Anyway, I have my reasons for not seeking revenge on you..." Rangiku said mystically, noticing the still-dubious look on the blonde's face. "Reasons that still, in a way, haunt me."

Tia wondered who or what she was referring to, but she didn't ask.

"—But I don't let things like that get in the way of a good time. So..." Her head lowered a bit in consideration. "Now that we have that out of the way..." Slowly, she pulled something out from behind her.

... And a corked bottle hit the table with a glassy thump.

"Let's drink!"

\- { - } -

It was a week and a half later, on a weekend.

Tia sat at Orihime's table, a glass of water in front of her. The redhead was out and about, running errands. The blonde chose to be left to herself, to lose herself in her musings.

Despite the lightheartedness of her new life on Earth, and despite tying up loose ends with Rangiku (as well as befriending her through the consumption of alcohol, funnily enough), she could not keep herself from diving deep into thought. It wasn't just because of the one night she sensed the Hollows and the presences of Ichigo, Orihime, and Rukia. She presumed it was an everyday cleansing; the three were only doing their jobs. It also wasn't just because Grimmjow began to act oddly secretive (but because it was him, it could be about anything).

It was a new, possibly foreboding development altogether.

. .

_"No! No! Nonononono!" came a choked cry from the futon on the other side of the table._

_The cries loud enough, Tia found her eyes suddenly wide open. "Inoue-san?" she called hesitantly._

_Instead of a reply, she only heard a sob and a mumble. The dark-skinned female sat up from her futon, glancing over at the mess of orange-red hair, and then the shaking body attached to it._

_Something was wrong._

_Tia crawled over to the girl, laying a cautious hand on the girl's arm. "Inoue-san," she hissed. "Wake up."_

_"Fushokuten..."_

_Tia furrowed a brow at her sleeping form. "What..."_

_In the dark room, out of the corner of her eye, the former Tres Espada made out a small dot of light coming from the table. She immediately craned her neck toward it, finding that her two blue pins were beginning to glow. She has seen these things in action before, when Orihime restored Grimmjow's arm, but that glow from them then had been a calming, rejuvenating light._

_This one now wasn't. Tia suddenly had a very bad hunch._

_"Fushokuten.. shishun... I..."_

_In haste, Tia grabbed Orihime, gripping her shoulders to roll her over to her back. With the teen lying face up, the blonde could make out trails of drying tears, knitted brows, and a marring frown. "Inoue-san," she said louder, her tone more forceful. She shook her. "Inoue-san!"_

_Tia stole another glance at the pins. They were glowing on and off, almost flashing at her with warning. But why did it feel like the pins themselves were fighting whatever power it wanted to release?_

_She gave Orihime another shake again, slightly harder than before. "Inoue-san, please wake up!"_

_And finally, the girl's eyes shot open, confused, scared, and glazed, clear even in the lightlessness of the apartment. She was breathing hard, but Tia guessed that Orihime had no idea why._

_"What... happened?" Orihime panted, looking up at Tia. "Is everything all right?"_

_Tia avoided her gaze, preferring to lay her eyes at some point beyond the redhead's futon. She debated on whether or not she should tell Orihime the details. After all, this didn't seem like any regular bad dream._

_She also recalled how cryptic Yamamoto Genryuusai had been about what the girl did._

_"You had a nightmare," the blonde answered succinctly, and hopefully, without suspicion._

_"Oh? About what?"_

_"You tell me; it's your mind, not mine," Tia replied lightly as she managed a small smile. "But I take it you do not remember."_

_Orihime did not deserve to be involved in such morose matters._

_"I guess not," she agreed softly, and then beamed tiredly at her roommate. "Well, sorry that I woke you, Tia-san. Good night."_

_. ._

Orihime had managed to sleep incident-less for the rest of the night, but not without that agitated expression on her face.

Tia set down her glass, eyes staring into it with purpose. She didn't know how long this had been happening, if there had been more than one incident; or if there will be a time when she would wake up aware of the nightmares. For all she knew, what happened that previous night could be one out of many before or many to come.

But there was no way she was going to overlook it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to imply that the three Espadas went to international school, not a regular local one. Hope that was clear!


	6. Ingenue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She 'violated the rules of God,' but she felt no glory from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Life in Mono" by MONO; "Mikazuki" by Ayaka; "Lunar Dream" by S.E.N.S.

_\- { paradise lost } -_

 

_Toushiro was healed enough to stand up, but incompletely so, in order to make room for the other fallen, more gravely injured shinigami. There was no longer the need for him to fight, but he was helpful in keeping an eye on things._

_Namely, on a few particular people who had just manifested from Hueco Mundo._

_Their transition from the other world to this wasn't as messy nor as jagged as a Garganta spell, but it was an unceremonious one all the same._

_"Kurosaki," Toushiro stated, eyes narrowed curiously._

_His cry of acknowledgement caught the attention of others nearby, namely the exiled Urahara Kisuke, the captain-commander Yamamoto Genryuusai, and the Vizard Hirako Shinji._

_The five heroes—the three humans and the two shinigami—seemed more-or-less untarnished from their respective fights. In fact, it seemed as though they were healed; meaning the rescue of their resident healer was a success._

_Except for one thing._

_At the front of the group, the white-haired boy found the face of Kurosaki Ichigo glumly bowed down, toward the limp red-haired figure in his arms, someone whom the young captain recognized as—_

_"Inoue?" he continued in a slight gasp, realizing that he was unable to feel her reiatsu. He raised a shocked hand toward her. "She's not—"_

_"Barely alive," Uryuu said, answering for his nakama as he came up beside Ichigo. His normal tenor was a soft, perturbed tone, one muffling another emotion Toushiro couldn't identify._

_"What went on over there?" he questioned in stunned puzzlement._

_He felt the presence of Urahara Kisuke come up behind him. "She really did it," he breathed, remorseful amazement evident in his voice. "Reject the Hougyoku, I mean."_

_"... Among other things," answered Yasutora, sneaking a look at both Rukia and Ichigo, neither of whom added their two cents. Unusual, for the two of them were the more vocal members of the group._

_But Toushiro spoke too soon. Ichigo lifted his head, his eyes vacant, as if distracted by trauma. "Reject isn't the word," he murmured. "It wasn't what she did..." He walked a few steps past the two, to a patch of soft grass where he ever-so-gently set down his cargo; the Las Noches uniform-clad young human known as Inoue Orihime. He laid her face-up, her expression peaceful despite her comrades' obvious distress._

_Kisuke glanced at each member of the group: Abarai Renji at the rear, then Yasutora, followed by Uryuu, then Rukia, and lastly, Ichigo. He stepped up next to him, following the boy's sad, but anxious gaze at the unconscious human._

_The sandy-haired shop owner looked as though he figured something out._

_Toushiro had always seen Kisuke as all-knowing, exceedingly wise beyond his peculiarities. This was one of those times where the white-haired shinigami itched to know what was going on; what had happened. Especially with that look of understanding he didn't recognize, and with the next words that escaped his lips._

_"Glad to see you in one piece," Kisuke said, unusually serious, "Kurosaki-san."_

_Ichigo didn't answer at first. He only looked down at his arm, as if he couldn't believe that it was real, and relatively unharmed._

_"But at what cost?" he mumbled with hard brown eyes._

\- { - } -

Orihime's nightmare wasn't just a singular occurrence.

From the start, Tia knew that Orihime was an overly giving person, and the blonde recalled a time when the girl put her own freedom at risk for the safety of all of her friends. Understandably so, because her friends were all she had. Tia soon discovered her life story, the loneliness, and—even without the use of her powers—the feelings of warm comfort she exhuded; in order to protect those most valuable to her.

Despite that, Orihime hardly went to her friends for her problems, unless something _truly_ bothered her. She was the type of girl to not let anyone else worry. She fussed over others, but never over herself.

It was around 3AM a few nights later, and Tia's eyes shot open. Her now-aware ears met immediately with a muted whistle, followed by the _click_ of the stove behind her, shutting the sound off.

Turning over, the blonde recognized Orihime, under the stovelight, making herself tea in the kitchen, out of all things.

As if sensing her puzzled green eyes on her, the redhead turned, looking down at her groggy roommate in the futon. "Oh!" she exclaimed softly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"... What are you doing?" Tia asked, her eyes surveying the exhausted, but troubled expression on her face. The redhead's hair looked tangled, as if she had been tossing and turning, and even in the weak lighting, she could make out the circles under her eyes. Her pajamas were slightly twisted, but Orihime didn't even seem to notice.

"I couldn't sleep," the healer answered with a small, _oh, silly me_ kind of giggle. "Bad dreams, you know?"

"Bad dreams..." Tia echoed softly. "So you do remember now?" She had a bad feeling about this; the situation may worsen. Call it a hunch, but Tia trusted her intuition.

"Hm?" Orihime seemed slightly confused.

"You had one a few nights ago," Tia reminded her evenly, but with reluctance. "And it's only now you were able to acknowledge that they're indeed nightmares."

The red-haired teenager averted her eyes, realizing this herself. For a second, a forlorn, distressed look crossed her innocent features, but in a blink of an eye, it disappeared. "Oh, yeah," she said lightly, her lips forming a sheepish grin.

"You have been spending a lot of time with Ulquiorra," Tia remarked expressionlessly. "Does he know about this? Has he said anything?"

At the mention of his name, Orihime's cheeks colored a bit, a weak pink that Tia would describe as an exhausted blush. Whether the redhead realized it or not was unknown. "No," she replied, turning back to the counter to pour herself a cup. "It's never bothered me in real life, so... there's no point mentioning it to him."

_But it bothers you now, I take it._

Feeling the burn of Tia's shamrock green eyes on her back, Orihime's posture hunched slightly, further hiding within the business of her task.

"... Perhaps we should see Urahara-san about it," the blonde suggested.

There was an immediate shake of Orihime's head, vigorously firm. "It's my own problem, Tia-san," was the quick reply as she lifted her mug. "Bad dreams are just... dreams. I'll stop having them soon enough."

"Then why do you seem so disturbed—"

"I don't want to talk about it. Please."

"..." Tia was getting too tired to argue any more. She would rather deal with the situation the next day when she felt more awake; and when Orihime no longer seemed so insistent on keeping her distance and her silence. "As you wish, Inoue-san," she murmured reluctantly, her eyes falling hesitantly to her blanket. "But don't think I will let it go."

If Orihime didn't catch the fishy tone of voice before, then she surely did now. Puzzled, she peered at her roommate out of the corner of her eye.

Tia suddenly recalled that same voice from the other night, moaning into the dead of night in disturbed frantics. "Fushokuten... shishun..." the blonde mumbled distractedly, lost in the uneasy memory.

"What did you say?"

The ex-Hollow looked up, just as the hushed, wary words left the healer's lips. Orihime had turned fully, staring at Tia with rounded eyes, her silver-gray irises shrinking. Her forehead was wrinkled with anxiety, and for some reason, her muscles tensed as she rendered herself still.

With fear.

"Inoue-san..." Tia said carefully.

"How do you know about that?" she asked in thin whisper. The burnt orange strands curtained her face as she tilted her face downward, shrouding her eyes and whatever Tia could have potentially been able to read in them.

While cautious of Orihime's state, the blonde remained abidingly calm. "You dreamt of it," she stated, the words posed matter-of-factly.

If the buxom young woman could withdraw further into herself, like a turtle, then she would have. Instead, she huddled closer to the kitchen counter and the tea set sitting in front of her, as if doing so could make her disappear from her apartment. "... It became so yellow... everything..."

"..."

"There was a time, at first," Orihime finally explained, her sentences breaking with uncertainty, "when I thought those yellow... filters didn't mean anything."

"I don't understand."

And she didn't elaborate. "But now it felt so hot and bright, and—" She swallowed, as if a lump suddenly rose in her throat. "The emotions I felt in those dreams... I felt like someone... hit me over the head really hard with something terrible, only it hurt every fiber of my heart."

Tia studied her with listless contemplation. Why did it feel like Orihime should have known more about her own powers than she actually did? She rejected the Hougyoku; it was _her_ doing, and yet, she regarded the abilities as though it belonged to a stranger. An _enemy_ , at that.

"Sorry."

The word quiet and abrupt in the silent air; so vulnerable and weak that Tia couldn't help but let her own features soften. _She is truly having a hard time..._ "Inoue-s-"

"I... shouldn't burden you with things like this, Tia-san," the girl said lightly. "You should get to back to sleep."

At that indication, Tia felt the weight of her own lack of sleep upon her shoulders. Their time of wake was a mere four—now nearly three—hours away. But for the sake of the teenage girl who literally resurrected her from the dead, the former Espada felt obligated to look out for her. And she was sure that it wasn't healthy for a human to stay up all night long. "Only if you do also," she negotiated humorlessly.

"Don't—"

"—worry," Tia finished for her with deadpan. She sighed quietly and let herself lie her head back onto her pillow. "As someone grateful for what you've done, I must insist on keeping a protective eye on you."

"..." That was when Orihime shifted her gaze, her distant silver-gray irises fixated on the teapot. She didn't reply, but the blonde knew that she had said something she did not want to hear. What was it? Did Orihime feel shame for having others offer to protect her? Did the suggestion make her feel all the more useless? Did the words somehow hurt her feelings?

"Um," Orihime finally said, her voice quiet, "I think I'll get myself some sleeping pills. There's a 24-hour convenience store down the street..." She shut off the stove light and moved, padding out of tiled kitchen floor.

 _She is lying._ Tia didn't know what the girl was going to accomplish by being out and about so early in the morning, but she was sure that she wasn't simply going to buy some pills and return promptly. However, she had a feeling there was no convincing her otherwise. Orihime can be stubborn. Even if she did what she was told, she would probably sneak around anyway.

Additionally, it was much, much too early for this.

And so, she relented, hoping that nothing else unpleasant made itself known, such as the incident with Orihime's hairpins. "Okay," the blonde finally sighed, but then added, as an afterthought: "However, Inoue-san, even if you don't tell _me,_ at least rely a little more on your other friends... or on Ulquiorra."

The air in the apartment grew still, due to Orihime's confusion or reluctance, Tia wagered.

"What... what do you mean? About Ulquiorra-san?"

"He seems quite devoted to you. Even if you feel any embarrassment at all, don't hesitate to talk to him. He will not judge you, if that is what you are worried about."

"But he..." The girl didn't finish, unable to counter her. Even with worried, knitted eyebrows, she smiled faintly, eyes looking upon fond memories as if they rested in her open, upturned hands. "I guess... he's changed a lot, hasn't he?"

"For the better," Tia agreed, hoping the tidbit of information helped Orihime's sanity, at least for the moment. "We are all moving on from the darker days, Inoue-san, and I hope that someday, not only your comrades, but Soul Society, will see that."

Orihime tiptoed across the floor to the bathroom. But before she opened the door, the long-haired woman paused, turning back to her roommate and squatting down at her bedside. It was much too dark to see what expression the human held, but it was evident in her voice.

"Thank you, Tia-san," Orihime whispered sincerely. "It means a lot knowing that."

Tia responded with a nod _,_ but the green of her exhausted eyes indicated something less relieved. "But it is not enough to fight off your inner demons, is it?"

Orihime only smiled that secretive, but reassuring, smile of hers.

\- { - } -

_His hands roamed the curves of her soft body, his fingers sliding along every patch of her creamy skin under her pink satin lingerie; the sole, thin layer of clothing the only thing separating her bare torso and ample chest from his hard, muscular one._

_They were lying in a bed of silk sheets, and his body was crushed against hers, trapping hers underneath him in a passionate embrace. Her thin, feminine fingers grasped at the sheets, fisting them as he took her to blissful new heights._  
_Both of their bodies were fired up with lust. His heart pounded loudly in his ears._

_He dragged his mouth down her exposed neck, the heat between them only increasing with every instance of bodily contact._

_"Ulquiorra..." she moaned, her throat rumbling under his kneading lips._

_. ._

He shot up in bed, breathing hard. His forehead glistened with a thin layer of sweat.

What _was_ that?

 _What a disturbing dream._ He rested his forehead against his palm. Why on Earth he would be thinking in such an embarrasing manner in his sleep?

Without realizing it, he swallowed. He stiill felt very warm in the lower half of his body. It wasn't a completely foreign sensation to him, as it was just a bodily function, but there was no reason for him to have it. He wasn't like Nnoitra. He wasn't the type to think about these things. Sure, he knew how to gauge female attractiveness, but he hardly concerned himself with it. The quality of a person shouldn't be measured by physical appearance.

Especially Inoue Orihime.

Ulquiorra had been aware of how many Arrancars in Las Noches viewed the former prisoner as a piece of meat, most notably Nnoitra. He remembered being irrevocably disgusted by such things. From first glance, he wouldn't have thought that she was strong and stubborn to the point it was almost admirable, but he came to know, through actually (insultingly) conversing with her, that she was.

And now, she was above and beyond that. He would always be eternally thankful for his redemption, and respected her more than he cared to admit out loud.

But there he was, up because of a filthy dream of the woman who was able to go against the powers of a god.

Either way, Ulquiorra could no longer sleep. It was annoyingly early in the morning—nowhere close to dawn—and he was now wide awake. The image of the scantily clothed woman remained oddly vivid, imprinted harshly into his mind.

And it was making it hard for him to calm down, especially in his stuffy little eyes drifted down to his arms in front of him.

_These hands... in my dream..._

From out of nowhere, he recalled how soft she felt under his fingers, which was the last thing he wanted to think about. He growled to himself in frustration. Simply sitting there waiting for it to go away was not working.

Perhaps what he needed, then, was some fresh air.

Quietly sliding his door open, Ulquiorra stepped softly out of his room and moved through the darkened shop, zipping up his hooded jacket to keep himself from freezing in that February night.

A breeze of cold air greeted him as he stepped outside, ruffling his hair. He sat down in front of the shop, the open door allowing the tatami ground to serve as his seat. Turning his head upward, he noticed that the sky was twinkling rather merrily with dots of starlight. A crescent moon greeted him with an ethereal glow.

Yes. This would take his mind off of... whatever that dream was.

Unfortunately, he did not get to sit in peaceful silence much longer.

"Ah, a night owl," came an elderly male voice. "Like me."

Without moving, Ulquiorra addressed the new arrival. "Shihouin Yoruichi," he acknowledged blankly.

The uninivited cat, coming from who-knows-where, hopped up and sat gracefully next to him. She watched him with interest, her tail swaying idly.

"What?" he uttered a moment later with slight irritation, peering at her out of the corner of his eye.

"What are _you_ so preoccupied about?" the former captain asked him, a mischievous glint in her amber eyes.

"Why should it matter to you?"

"It doesn't."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because it's funny." Yoruichi laughed under her breath. "Ulquiorra Cifer, the stoic Fourth Espada, can't sleep because he's so engrossed in his inner turmoil. How many things are wrong with that sentence?"

He gritted his teeth.

"Oh, I think I hit a sore spot," she said with glee, egging him on with her coy tone of voice, old-man quality notwithstanding. "What's wrong, Ulquiorra- _kun_? Cat got your tongue?"

He turned his head to the side opposite of where she was standing, irked. "As you said, it does not matter."

"Is it about Inoue? I've seen you with her all the time."

" _Ulquiorra..."_

The sultry tone of Orihime from his dream suddenly invaded his mind again, uncharacteristically quickening his heart and heating up his face and body.

What was happening? Why was he being so easily swayed by her physical beauty? These type of things never happen to _him_. He always had a good grasp of himself emotionally; he was always cool and collected, but for some reason, tonight wasn't one of those times.

"Leave," he managed to grunt to Yoruichi, his voice edgy. Ulquiorra tipped his head downward and massaged his temples with one hand, simultaneously hiding his face behind the rest of his fingers.

"Hm," Yoruichi replied, her feline face studying him with considerably wider, more intrigued eyes. "This is interesting."

"..."

"Hang in there." With that, the cat trotted away with an amused snicker, going about her own way as she left the boy to his own devices.

Ulquiorra breathed out slowly.

_Do not tell me... that this is also part of being human..._

From seemingly out of nowhere, a shuffle of footsteps made themselves heard. Curious as to who would be walking around at this hour, he raised his head.

And there _she_ was.

For a minute, Ulquiorra was ready to dismiss Orihime's sudden appearance as some sort of dream.

But he realized that she really was there, wandering into the shop's property, trudging as if she had been walking for hours.

However, this time, she wasn't in racy pink negligee, but in a form-fitting pink shirt and white pants.

What was she doing? It was chilly, and even from his perch on the steps, he could see the gooseflesh popping up all over her arms. However, she wasn't shivering. Her expression seemed distant; caught up in her thought. She didn't look well, and with such light, listless steps, she glided like she was a ghost, blindly lost and trapped in her own world.

All thoughts of his dream ceased to be (at least for the moment) as the situation began to trouble him.

"Onna?" he called without another second's hesitation. "What are you doing here?"

\- { - } -

A lot was weighing on Orihime's mind. But her poor eyes were incredibly heavy with the need to sleep. But every time she tried to close them, an image of her nightmare would force them wide open, keeping her mind awake with fear.

Nothing would let her rest, would they?

. .

_She found herself in a room of spacious, sterile white, standing in front of a pillar. The fabric of a familiar outfit, just as sterile white, clung to her figure, cold against her clammy flesh._

_. ._

At this, her muscles grew taut, the anxiety keeping herself tense and fired up. But simultaneously, her body wanted to collapse into bed.

. .

_Before she made another move, the scene flickered, as if she fluttered her silver-gray eyes several times._

_Suddenly, an expanding dome of yellow roared all around her. It was all she could see. There was no ivory of the clean, tiled room; no pure orange-red in her hair, no peachy-pink tint in her skin._

_Only._

_Yellow._

_She mentally braced herself as she held her hands out cautiously. She felt chaos swirl inside of her; this power she created was almost out of her control. But the words she would recite was her last-ditch effort to lasso her power in, almost to prove her possession over the mass of hellish golden-yellow._

_"Fushokuten shishun. I reject... please..."_

_The ominous rumble of the dome was deafening. Was she even sure that this was what she said? She couldn't even hear herself._

_However, she felt every syllable escape her lips._

_And soon realized, that perhaps the spell was something she wished she could take back._

. .

Orihime had never meant to say anything about the dream to Tia, and to dismiss her dream as no big deal, but as haphazard as her emotions were (and to an extent, still are), she couldn't help it. Disembodied descriptions of it had tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

It was still strong in her head. Every factor of it, from the yellow-tinted vision to the emotions she felt in her chest and gut, resonated from every part of her.

And she hated it.

What topped it all as icing on the cake were the whispers in her dream. She didn't physically hear them within the dome, but they had a just-as-graphic presence in her mind, buzzing with staggered chants of, _We can't intervene anymore..._

_It's for your protection..._

_We did what we allowed ourselves to do..._

How rude. How dare they abandon her? How _dare_ they?

"Onna?"questioned a familiar voice. "What are you doing here?"

Orihime blinked out of her thoughts, suddenly aware of herself.

_That voice._

Her mind must have been swimming so much that she didn't realize that in her meandering venture, she stumbled upon Urahara Kisuke's shop. And by some stroke of late-night luck, Ulquiorra, out of all people, happened to be sitting outside by the door.

Ironic, that Tia mentioned relying on him earlier, and now, there he was. She really didn't expect that, much less expect to run into anyone else for that matter. How was she going to explain herself? "I-I... just thought it'd be nice to take a walk!" she lied in a flustered manner. "I've been a little out of shape—"

"At this hour?" he asked, subtly bewildered. He stood up and walked to her with patient steps. His hands, as always, were shoved casually into the pockets of his jacket. "You seem tired," he observed. "Why are you not sleeping?"

"I know," she said, "but um... I just couldn't, I guess." She frowned. "Why are you up?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself with," he told her blandly, without missing a beat.

She was a little taken aback by his adamant secrecy, but quickly let it slide. "O-Oh, don't let me keep you!" she exclaimed apologetically. "I'll just be on my way." She turned, ready to leave him be, but the velvet timbre of his voice stopped her, mentally wrapping around her like a comfortable blanket lulling her into a feeling of sudden easiness.

"What is bothering you?"

Did she ever feel this much relief in his consideration? Or was it her wandering mind playing tricks on her? Because it was only then she realized how much she liked having him around. Even as a man of little words, he was a comforting presence.

She suddenly heard him step closer to her, and she swore, with wide eyes, that she could feel his warm breath blow across the top of her head. The sensation made her shiver involuntarily for some reason, and it was audible in her voice.

"N-Nothing!" she stammered. Even though her back was to him, she quickly shifted her eyes to the ground, as if breaking her gaze from his. She fiddled with the hem of her pink shirt. "I just... don't want to sleep."

"... Did you have an odd dream?" he asked her, sounding, out of all things, hesitant.

She blinked, suddenly curious as to why he sounded a little off. "Uh... un..." Orihime answered, turning around to face him. Apprehensive, unreadable emerald eyes met her searching ones. While their stares locking wasn't a new occurrence, something about the gesture caused him to tense up, and she began to wonder if he was up because of a nightmare as well.

"Are you... okay, Ulquiorra-san?" she inquired softly. It was unusual for him to act so unsure.

He gave her a different look then, another that she could not figure out. It would be best described as awkward, especially from the quick way he tore his eyes from hers, large green orbs trailing from her face, along the curve of her neck, and to some point on her shoulder. "Don't fret about it, Woman," was all he said in a careful, but austere tone.

She furrowed a brow at him. "But—"

"I believe you are the one who traveled here from your home at an unspeakable hour," he interrupted her, quick on his reply.

She smiled reluctantly, her eyes falling to a spot on his chest below his neck. She absently thought about how there used to be a Hollow hole in that very spot. "I didn't mean to, though. I was just getting sleeping pills..."

"Sleeping pills," he repeated expressionlessly. "I hope you are not expecting to get any from here."

"A-ah, no," Orihime responded with a soft laugh. "I guess... I got lost?"

"Are you asking?"

"Um, yes?"

He scoffed under his breath.

She scratched the back of her neck meekly and looked away. Again, he scrutinized her with his emerald stare. She could virtually feel his subtle concern burn into her face and seep into her chest, telling her that she should listen to her roommate's advice, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"You do not want to talk about it," he assumed plainly.

"Not really," she confessed, tossing him an apologetic glance. "It... scares me and stresses me out the more I think about it."

"It was a nightmare."

"Yeah," she affirmed uneasily. "It keeps me up..." She noticed the weary glaze in his eyes and immediately felt selfish for taking up his time. "But don't let it bother you, Ulquiorra-san," she added, frowning for his sake. "I should let you go to bed. I can just—"

"Sit with me," he interjected suddenly.

"... Eh?" Before the syllable even finished, she watched, slightly bewildered, as Ulquiorra spun on his heel; back in the direction he came from. Dumbly, she followed after him, sitting down next to his lean figure in puzzled silence. She gazed up at him in wonder, as he seemed to stare at some random point on the ground in front of him, without his usually rigid posture. Instead, he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, arms loosely crossed over each other.

_He's... human._

Especially without the utterly cold, mechanical look in his eyes he used to have.

Orihime had noticed, over the time since the Resurrected appeared, that Ulquiorra's eyes seemed to soften, little by little, as if every moment spent with him was a successful opportunity to melt that icy personality of his. Even his walking stance seemed to relax

Was it really her influence that made him that way? She sincerely hoped it was. There was a precious quality about him she wanted to continue to nurture, and although she didn't know what it was that gravitated her toward him, it wasn't something she minded.

"You know, you're really a considerate guy underneath it all," Orihime said with a soft, slightly playful grin.

He eyed her doubtfully. "Do not embellish my personality. I am nothing like you."

She blinked questioningly at him.

"What I mean to say," he continued in response, "is that you are a respectable person. Your continued hospitality is certainly not necessary. I cannot forget what you did."

The accolades sounded strange out of his lips, she noted, but so smooth and poetic all the same. She found herself paying special attention to his words.

... And then they weighed in.

Did he really see her in that sort of light?

As much as his words touched her, she couldn't help but offer only another smile, one that was small and skeptical. "Who's the one doing the embellishing now?" she joked lightly.

"It is no exaggeration, if that is what you are suggesting," Ulquiorra insisted. He glanced at her. A simple enough gesture, but she was unable to turn away from such a convinced expression. "I was redeemed. As if a god reached for my hand and forgave my sins."

 _What?_ Orihime suddenly found her cheeks growing warm under his meaningful stare. God? Did he just refer to her as a god? She then remembered Aizen Sousuke's words in regards to her powers.

_Violating the rules of God._

"What do I do in return?" he went on quietly. "I find that there is no other option but to pay my dues to you... in the only way my current situation allows."

_Pay his dues._

What was this disappointed feeling? The turnaround in her mood?

Somewhat taken aback by his words, her smile wavered a fraction as she paused for a few seconds. "Oh... is that it?" she finally murmured in a contemplative tone.

It was reminiscent of what Grimmjow said back in Hueco Mundo, after she was rescued by him when Loly and Menoly beat her around. _Returning the favor_ , she remembered, for restoring his arm. Nothing but. No compassion; no sympathy.

Was this similar? Except with the added notion of simple friendship? Was it why he "did what he wanted to do"?

 _"He seems quite devoted to you,"_ Tia had told her earlier, and the gray-eyed woman now understood why.

Something about that thought made her heart sink, but at the same time, she wondered why it should matter. _Friends!_ She had cheered to Ulquiorra with enthusiasm, and friends they had become. Why would she have to expect anything more? It wasn't like they were—

"You became quiet," he remarked all of a sudden.

Her attention snapped from her thoughts to the man sitting beside her. "Oh!" she replied in a squeak. "Sorry! I just drifted off there..."

He stared at her a while longer, not understanding what her deal was. It made her feel self-conscious, especially from the way his eyes scrutinizingly pierced hers. "Your dream," he said slowly. "Does it still frighten you?"

Not too thrilled about the subject change, she merely frowned at him. "Ulquiorra-san..."

"These sleepless distractions do not suit you."

He was concerned; something she would have easily missed if she hadn't been paying attention to him. The fact made something in her chest melt with gratitude, but was he concerned because he was actually worried, or because it was his obligation? There was a difference, one that roused battle between her heart and her mind. She suddenly found herself _struggling_ to stay levelheaded in regards to Ulquiorra.

She pulled her knees up, hugging her folded legs to her chest with her arms wrapped around them; protecting herself from the reminder of her dream. "It's hard to explain it all... and I'm not comfortable talking about it—"

"You can tell me whatever you desire to."

Something in her soared. And instantly wrenched. Her heart enjoyed the statement, but her head rejected the purity of his intentions. What was she supposed to make of it? Why the inner battles? Nothing was relieving her insomnia; she was being pulled in all directions for various, scattered reasons. And for God's sake, she just couldn't _take it_.

Unbeknownst to her, tears began to fall, and Orihime only began to realize this when Ulquiorra pointed it out.

"You're crying," he said, furrowing a brow at her, as if asking, _was it really that bad?_

But it was only one reason out of several others.

Her breath violently hitched in response to him, her eyes initially rounded at his observation. She then slowly lowered her lids, her face burrowing into her palms as she let the emotions go.

Orihime felt a hand on her shoulder, nudging her gingerly to turn toward him. Remaining adamant, Orihime mutely shook her head.

It only encouraged Ulquiorra to grab her by the wrists and force her hands away from her face. It took little effort. She instinctively averted her eyes away from his, the cloudy gray irises still puffy, glistening with unshed tears.

"Woman," he muttered in a bit of a stricter voice, and then sighed after not receiving a reply. "I don't understand. I have told you how much you have done for me, Grimmjow, and Tia, but it seems like you will not allow me to do the same."

_He almost sounded... defeated._

His hold released without warning, but it was too late for Orihime to hide again. He was already viewing the girl in her weakest state, fragile and confused. He was seeing her stripped of the illuminating quality she tended to carry in front of others; without the optimistic sparkle in her eyes. The density of her problems was written across her face, apparent in her skintone and her stride. This was her, in her opinion, at one of her ugliest.

She was embarrassed.

And yet, as his fingers slipped away from her wrists, his gaze stayed rooted to her tear-stained face. He didn't say anything else to her, but the honest perplexity in his eyes was enough to guilt-trip her. His so-called "dues" and similar reasons aside, she was grateful that _he_ was the one keeping her company, sitting at Urahara Shouten late into the night with her. He wasn't physically stretching a limb toward her now, nor securing her within his arms, but she felt him envelop her regardless.

"I dreamt of Las Noches," she whispered, her voice trembling as she forced down her hiccups. She watched his emerald depths for a reaction, but he made none. He only listened, she figured, judging from the rather neutral expression on his porcelain face. "I made a shield," she continued, "N-Nothing I had ever made before."

Slowly, a throbbing ache seemed to clutch her by the head from the inside, warning her to take caution of the words coming out of her mouth.

And she didn't know why...

It was almost as if her own body was holding the images back, coercing them into her subconscious; making them stay there.

But that would be crazy, wouldn't it?

Nonetheless, she went on. "... It was called..."

_Don't say it._

"It was—"

_No!_

Mental blockage. Orihime had no choice but to skip over that part. "... I don't..." she trailed off, her eyes falling sadly to the ground in front of her. "A-anyway, it was powerful. Like I had the energy of the Hougyoku... and then I felt... like I made the worst possible mistake—"

. .

_Everything had disintegrated, exploding into fine, dry particles not unlike what she had witnessed with Ulquiorra Cifer before._

_It rained sand around her, but she became too numb to feel the grains pattering against her head._

_What she did wasn't event rejection. She didn't rebuild anything; she didn't send objects back into the past for restoration._

_Orihime simply destroyed her surroundings in real, present time._

_The words that came out of her lips—corrosion and death—had been in her last stream of thoughts before releasing the monstrosity from within._

_And now, a desert wind ruffled her skirt, lifting her dark orange tresses into a fiery dance. There was a sky, dull blueish gray, with a low moon hanging among the stars._

_She was suddenly outdoors. And there was no more yellow._

_And then, she made a devastating realization._

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra managed to get through the abhorrent recount of Orihime's nightmare without reacting in a way that would repel her. He took in the descriptions, but did not comment; he observed her, but did not make sudden movements that would startle her.

And still, he didn't understand what the meaning behind any of the imageries were. It was just a dream, but Orihime seemed so troubled by it that he had a feeling that there was some real-life basis involved. But how much of it was true? How much of it had to do with what he already knew about her?

He didn't dare ask, though. The dream stressed her enough to keep her in a terrible state, and an interrogation right now would worsen it. So instead, he changed topics. The bumpiness of her gooseflesh caught his eye, and with one hand fresh out of his hoodie pocket, he gently laid the pads of his fingers against her upper arm. It was only a brief touch, but it made her jump and turn a soft, self-conscious rosy color.

"Aren't you cold, Onna?" he asked.

Orihime appeared to think about it. The question was simple, really. He meant it to be literal. Human skin was sensitive to temperature change, and it was always so perceptible when it came to the cold.

Yet, she managed to turn that question into a multifaceted one. Perhaps it wasn't her purpose to answer that way.

"I was... but now I feel warm."

But at least he knew enough about emotions to understand what she really meant.

Her gray irises locked onto his. And even in that short moment, he felt something warm up his chest, from the base of his neck to just above his abdominals. "Really," was all he could say in that temporary lapse of thought.

She smiled, a mild one that indicated a losing battle against the inevitable slumber, but was, nevertheless, heart-stirring.

He darted his gaze away to stare up at the moon instead, estranged by the effect she had on him. It was no longer about his own, inappropriate dream. Never one to mull trivial things over too long, he found the dreaded thing beginning to disappear into the very back of his mind.

"The lack of sleep is catching up to you," he remarked under his breath, barely loud enough for even the girl to hear.

There was no other response from her. However...

He felt a thump against his arm. He stiffened instinctively and turned his head, finding a head of dark orange-red leaning heavily against him. She had fallen asleep. Ulquiorra didn't know what it was that finally got her to rest, but he was sure that it had to do with him. Somehow.

"Onna." He shifted his arm slightly, as if the gentle movement would wake her up, but it didn't. He wasn't sure how to handle this situation.

"Well, what do we have here?"

Ulquiorra snapped his eyes in the direction of the amused, elderly voice behind him. "What is it, Shihouin Yoruichi?"

If cats could shrug in that suspiciously nonchalant manner, then she would have. Instead, she wagged her long, thin tail casually and blinked. "Nothing, nothing," she asserted. "It's just amusing to see someone like you with a soft spot."

His irritated glare, full of killing intent, was enough to drive the nosy cat out of sight, but in a way, even he had to admit that Yoruichi was right.

_This 'soft spot'..._

His eyes fell on Orihime again, something subtly affectionate tugging at his lips.

_I guess it suits me fine._

\- { - } -

"Hisagi, Kuchiki, Kenpachi," boomed Genryuusai's voice in the First Division's headquarters.

In the audience of the usual suspects at yet another meeting of the Gotei 13's elite, the named captains stepped forward to stand in front of their superior.

"You three and your divisions," the old captain-commander began, "were assigned to check the gateways and the ease of teleporting from our world to the others, were you not?"

Hisagi Shuuhei nodded. Kuchiki Byakuya merely tipped his head, while Zaraki Kenpachi smirked, perhaps in his own way of affirmation.

"Well?"

"The inter-world barriers are still not complete," Byakuya reported coolly, the steadiness in his voice hiding his true feelings well. "It may be that they will not close up nor heal on its own. At least, not as soon as we would hope."

"It's starting to affect the human world, too," Shuuhei added grimly. "There seemed to be an influx of Hollows that appeared in Karakura Town not too long ago. We can assume it's easier to break dimensions with Gargantas."

"What they said," Zaraki grunted indifferently. "Plus, be glad no Vasto Lordes are comin' in on either our side or the living world's. Otherwise we'd hafta get involved." Despite his words, the other captains could tell that the sudden spark in his reiatsu meant he had no problem with fighting them.

"So the balance is still off," Lieutenant Izuru Kira, the only member of the Third Division present, reasoned softly. His already visible frown deepened.

"Soutaichou," Mayuri chimed in, his voice holding a hint of seriousness that reassured the others; at least, a little bit. "It's necessary to get a hold of the human girl. She needs to come here and fix it."

"As if it's that simple," Toushiro grumbled. "Did you forget what was agreed with Ichigo's group?"

. .

_The official report from the heroic group of humans (and rebellious shinigami, Rukia and Renji) was that post-... whatever happened to them, they found Orihime's body in the middle of Hueco Mundo, unconscious, sweaty, and barely breathing. Her body felt cold to the touch; her face pale and unmoving. Her fairies, somehow active, were flitting around her frantically. They didn't seem able to fix her, however. Event rejection would not have helped._

_It was obvious that there were many questions, but where would he and the others start? How would they be able to even focus? This was just one problem out of many. Even with the biggest threat gone, the Winter War had still been a mess, especially with the pillars keeping the Fake Karakura Town intact. It was a partial failure that they had to clean up right away._

_Hitsugaya Toushiro, usually intelligent and fast on thinking things through, could not draw any conclusion to anything other than his own role of the war. And so, he was unable to do more than stand from the the sideline in careful observation._

_While Retsu took her time examining Orihime, at a safe distance from the tensions brewing between the shinigami, humans, and Vizards, Ichigo and his nakama were apprehended by not just a disgruntled Yamamoto Genryuusai, but by the Vizard Hirako Shinji, Ichigo's own father, Kurosaki Isshin, and ex-captains Urahara Kisuke and Shihouin Yoruichi. The latter was sitting up in her spot among a row of injured shinigami, halfway healed._

_The old captain-commander furrowed his bushy brows at Ichigo. "Can I assume, Kid," he said, "that Aizen Sousuke and Urahara Kisuke were correct? That Inoue Orihime got rid of the Hougyoku?"_

_Ichigo only offered a fatigued nod, briefly shutting his eyes as his head slowly lowered._

_"That is a feat." If it was praise, it didn't sound like it. Genryuusai wasn't a complimentary person. "But that wasn't all, was it, Kurosaki Ichigo?"_

_"... Why does it matter?" the human shinigami grunted with narrowed brown eyes. "Inoue nearly sacrificed her fucking life. Aizen is dead. What more do you want?"_

_"May I suggest letting us take care of that girl?" replied Genryuusai, although, despite his word usage, his politeness was in no way comforting. "Even though you and I were in separate worlds during this war, the foundations of both were shaken."_

_"No," Ichigo barked in response without a second thought, speaking up for his faction. "And we already know what happened. We saw what sh—no, we felt what she did back there. And it's been done. Considering... we probably got the best-case scenario—"_

_"Did you ever consider the fact that the power of the Hougyoku not only mutated her powers, but fused with them? We cannot overlook such a thing."_

_"Oh, for—why would I hand her over to the likes of you? She's suffered enough!" Ichigo snarled vehemently. "You got your traitor_ easily  _killed thanks to her. Don't fucking forget that."_

_"... You speak the truth, punk. But—"_

_"No fucking buts! For Aizen's defeat, you promise us you won't lay a fucking finger on her. You were willing to turn your fucking back on her and let her waste away in Hueco Mundo! And what did she do in return? SHE HELPED YOUR VICTORY ALONG. Let all that sink in to your malfunctioning old brain."_

_"Kurosaki-san..." Kisuke said in light warning. "Let me handle this." He turned to the captain-commander in slight apology. "Yama—"_

_"Very well," was the sudden answer._

_Both the human and the ex-captain snapped their astounded eyes to Genryuusai. It was usually hard to sway him, as stubborn as he was._

_But seeing the captivatingly scheming expression in his eyes, neither Ichigo nor Kisuke (nor Toushiro, for that matter) could help but feel that the agreement was shaky at best, and evidently temporary..._

. .

"For the weakening of Aizen Sousuke and eventual defeat," the youngest captain reminded them curtly, "we leave Inoue alone."

"Based on her emotional status?" Mayuri guessed with a scoff. "Then that girl needs to come to terms with what she's done—good or bad." He smiled then, a glint of mischief in his beady eyes. "And believe me, I will take extra precaution... Just get her to Soul Society and I'll take care of _everything_."

"You mean, all the more for you to abuse her presence," Soifon remarked sternly. "Also, it's unsure whether or not she can tap into that same amount of power as _that_ time."

"And frankly, it _would_ hurt to try," Juushiro added. "Letting her true powers out unbridled is like opening Pandora's Box. The repercussions of the Hougyoku's destruction are things we need to step through carefully."

"With my division's technology, I'm sure we can come up with a way to unlock her reiatsu's true form and amplify it. Perhaps she can stick around in order for us to fix its mutations... if that's what it is."

"Mayuri... may have something there," Genryuusai commented. "On top of that, he, was also there when it happened."

Toushiro scowled. "Do you think Matsumoto alone can convince her to come up for that?"

"Matsumoto probably has the best rapport with her out of all of us here," Genryuusai noted. "It is strategically the best move to make. Frankly, your rejecting the mission and assigning it to her was a smart move, Hitsugaya."

"Strategically..." he repeated with blatant disapproval.

"That girl has had her time to get her life back to normal," Genryuusai continued, ignoring his subordinate. "But now she has no choice but to face what she had wrought."

No one from the Gotei 13 captains (and lieutenant) had anything to object with. Even though Toushiro would rather be behind Orihime than his own superior, there was nothing he could do but lower his gaze in helpless frustration, mentally apologizing to the tatami floor beneath him as if it could somehow reach out to her.

"After all..." the old man went on, the expression in his old, worn orbs darkening, "the Hougyoku wasn't the only thing she vaporized."

\- { - } -

Orihime rolled over a couple of hours later, the white-yellow rays of the sun pouring into the unusually wide window of the room she was lying in. Her eyes opened groggily, gray eyes blinking into wake. She was still incredibly tired, but her body told her it was time to get up for school.

She pushed herself off the futon, and realized that the covers over her body weren't pink with yellow bears on them.

Her eyes then became saucers. They were green; a stark emerald hue just like—

She heard shifting from another part of the room. The long-haired girl immediately turned toward the sound, finding Ulquiorra slumped in the corner of it, still asleep. The way he was lying there reminded her of something...

_"I did what I wanted to do."_

Without thinking, she rushed to him in a quick crawl, her sleepily hazy mind caught up in the day he shielded her from the Hollow attack; back to when she saw, for the first time, bruises and blood on his porcelain skin. Orihime stopped in front of his form, unconsciously planting her hands on either side of him to support herself as she leaned forward, in a dream-like way, seeing if anything dared to mar his unblemished face.

Ulquiorra's eyes fluttered open. He instantly saw her face, much closer to him than anticipated. An inch or two closer, and their noses would have touched. Without flinching, he uttered calmly, his voice hoarse from his slumber. "Onna."

And she blinked, as if jolted back into reality. Realizing their position, she immediately leaned back, her face red. "So-Sorry!" she squeaked, quite horrified, although the man with her didn't seem fazed at all. "I j-just—ah—" She stopped when she realized something _else_ registered into her brain. Her face turned a tomato red. "Wait... I'm—"

"Yes, Woman," he answered, without waiting for her to finish her question. He pulled himself from the corner and stood up, sidestepping away. "You slept in my room." Despite the fact that he said it with such normalcy, Orihime began to freak out.

"Oh, my gosh.. I was so forwardyoumustthinkI'msomesortofpervertIcan'tbelieveI—"

"Onna," he interrupted sharply, casting her an odd look. "That should be the least of your worries."

"B-But...!"

"You did not rest well," he reminded her tonelessly. "Even when you fell sleep, it seemed as though your night was anything but pleasant."

She went quiet. Both his words and Tia's from the night before came to mind. Her mood instantly wilted, her eyes falling to her wrung hands in front of her.

There was a shuffle beside her. She paid no heed to it until a pale masculine hand entered her vision. She gave it a puzzled once-over before tilting her head upward. And she didn't know what it was, but right there, she saw him differently. Not as just a dear friend, but as something deeper; something that gave her a sense of longing. His eyes weren't just an entrancing shade of green, but an attractive one; the sharp features of his face became intricately beautiful, somehow more enticing.

Her hand shyly reached for his offered one. As Ulquiorra gripped hers and pulled her to her feet, her heart pounded.

Why was she so flustered? Was the insomnia making her mind muddy? Or was it because of this morning, when she embarrassed herself?

Because when they touched... she felt _something_ that wasn't there before. It was like a tingling current of electricity running through her veins, loosening up her stressed nerves.

 _I wonder... what it means..._ she thought distractedly, her hand sliding out from his.

She also wondered why her hand now felt lonely without his.

Orihime didn't remember always feeling this way with him; that, she knew. And while it was new, there was an inkling of familiarity, basically because it reminded her of something similar.

"Kurosaki-kun..." she thought out loud without realizing it, but was too late to take back the erronous utterance.

"You still speak of him?" she heard Ulquiorra ask her in a curt tone.

Was it just her, or was there an additional bite in his words? It wasn't like she and Ichigo were no longer friends; they still conversed at school.

"Ah... I didn't mean to say that out loud..." she mumbled apologetically, her cheeks slightly pink.

"Nightmare?" he surmised.

"No," she said, trying to figure out something to say without revealing what she had just been thinking. "I was just thinking... who would look the best in a platypus suit."

"... Pardon?"

 _Whew, that was close..._ she mentally sighed. Before she could answer with another out-there excuse, the door swiftly slid open.

"I told that idiot to knock first," Ulquiorra murmured bitterly, but that didn't stop him nor Orihime from seeing the grinning face of a uniform-clad Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez on the other side. He was quick to point a finger in Orihime's direction. "I fucking _knew_ it!" he exclaimed with mischievous glee. "Ya dirty little shits..."

"Wh-wh-what?" Orihime yelped, the accusation making her embarrassed beyond belief. "It's not what you think!"

"If you have time to make irrelevent assumptions, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said without a bat of an eye, "then you can—"

"Retrieve me?" came another voice: Tia's. The blonde stuck her head into the open doorway, a small smile on her lips. "I already had a feeling of what went on last night. I came prepared." Tia gracefully pushed passed the larger figure of Grimmjow, holding out in her hands a folded school uniform for Orihime and her bookbag.

The healer looked up at her roommate, still quite self-conscious. "Tia-san... it's _really_ not what it looks like..."

"It's okay," the blonde told her with a friendly nod. "I'm not vulgar like Grimmjow—"

"Shut up, Bitch!"

"—so I came to much different conclusions." She exchanged a brief look with Ulquiorra, with a mutual understanding of the redhead's predicament.

"I-I guess I'll go change..." Orihime announced, unceremoniously squeezing out of the ex-Espada-filled bedroom.

When she left, Ulquiorra realized, with an amused smirk, that she didn't know—

"Ano..." she called from somewhere beyond the door. "Where's the bathroom?" From the sounds of additional voices outside, he figured that at least Ururu came to the girl's rescue.

Tia was the first out of the Resurrected to speak up when they knew Orihime was out of earshot. "How was she when you saw her?" she asked Ulquiorra calmly. "Can I assume that she didn't, in fact, barge into the shop and wake you up?"

"Yeah, what the hell is going on?" added Grimmjow, although neither of his companions answered him.

"Unwell," was the former Cuatro's clipped reply. "I was already up, and it is none of your business why." The latter part of his sentence came out sharper when he noticed that both Tia and Grimmjow looked at him in skeptical question.

His hands contemplatively in his pockets, Ulquiorra turned his gaze from them to the window. "It seems you were aware her being awake in the middle of the night, Tia. Why did you allow her to leave to wander the streets in the middle of the night?"

"I knew she was going to sneak past me one way or another," she answered. "You are the one she listens to, Ulquiorra. Not so much me nor Grimmjow."

As if on cue, there was a soft _tch_ from the blue-haired one.

Ulquiorra, meanwhile, found the words repeating in his head. Why did that idea make him feel... relieved? Uplifted? Was it from the simple desire to be there for her? To warm up to the idea of a _friendship_ with the selfless woman? Or was it more?

"Anyway," Tia went on quietly. "Did she confide in you?"

The dark-haired male furrowed a defensive brow. "If she did any of the sort, I have no reason to divulge it to you."

"I already know that she had a nightmare," she reminded him. "Enough to know what little detail she was willing to disclose." It was then she suddenly turned her head toward Grimmjow, eyeing him with a pointed gaze. The action was so abrupt that it actually caused the much taller male to jump about a mile in the air.

Her surprising him for the zillionth time ruffled his feathers, to say the least. "What, Bitch?" he ground out.

Unfazed by his constant irritation toward her, Tia motioned toward the the door with the tip of her head, hinting that this conversation was solely between her and Ulquiorra.

Of course, Ulquiorra neither agreed nor disagreed with the notion. But it wasn't like the leaner man would ever argue for his sake, anyway.

"Oh, _fuck_ no!" Grimmjow protested in hotheaded rage. "I had it with you people leaving me out of everything! First it was that damn chibi Rukia and now—"

Tia was fast to catch his slip-up. "You spoke with Kuchiki Rukia?" she drawled thoughtfully. "About Inoue-san?"

"... No!"

"But you just said—"

"No, dammit!"

Ulquiorra wasn't oblivious. He knew Grimmjow well enough to tell when he was flustered or nervous. "What is it, Grimmjow?" he asked in a low voice, suspicious.

Grimmjow glared at him, unwilling to give in. "What is _what_? The fuck are you talking about?" He ran his hands through his short, vibrant mop of hair repeatedly in annoyance. "God, what's _with_ you guys! You know, you're no damn different from Kurosaki and his friends watching her every move!"

"What did you say?" Ulquiorra muttered through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed. Normally, he wouldn't have been so miffed by anything Grimmjow said, especially with his impulsive taunts. But to be compared to Kurosaki Ichigo...

Grimmjow offered him a snide grin. He surely loved pissing the royally arrogant Ulquiorra off. "You know exactly what I'm sayin'." His sky blue eyes flitted from him to Tia, making sure that—for once—they were listening to him. "So, she fucking brought us back from the dead. Great. What's so important about her fucking... I don't know, flashbacks of—"

"Flashbacks," Ulquiorra echoed, stressing the word with intrigue.

"Yeah, flashbacks of her yellow shit. She doesn't care about our damn past as Arrancar, so why should we care about what she actually did? It _happened_. That's all we should care about. That and all the redemption crap."

"Why should I ignore the question of our origin?" she countered impassively.

"It's been answered a million times already," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "She rejected our deaths. With that, uh, shield shit."

"But why the three of us? And last I recalled, you hated 'Pet-sama,'" the blonde pointed out. "And she more than likely disrespected you. Moreover, I did not speak with her at all. Throughout the entire war, I only caught one sight of her; when she healed your arm in front of all of us Espada." She glanced briefly at Ulquiorra before turning back to Grimmjow. "I don't know what went on between Inoue-san and Ulquiorra by the end, but it is, I assume, beyond our understanding."

The muscular man scowled. He couldn't argue against her, and it obviously pissed him off.

"But I will give you this," she continued thoughtfully. "I might have come off as overbearing in regards to her. In a way, you are correct. We should be looking to our future more." She sighed, her eyes distant as she remembered something mysteriously worrisome. "However... if something from the past affects us now, then it is a concern."

Ulquiorra turned to the blonde in silent inquiry. He did not miss the last part of her speech.

"I thought it was accidental on the first night," Tia explained. "... That her pins would light up whenever she said _fushokuten shishun_ in her sleep. If I understand the meaning right, then it should translate to something like ' _sacred corroding death shield_.'"

At this point, Grimmjow began to look uncomfortable and avoidant, shifting his balance from foot to foot. Like Ulquiorra, he had his own hands in his pockets, but while it was a natural pose for the green-eyed male, the taller of the two seemed strangely guarded.

After both she and Ulquiorra gave him wary glances, she continued on. "She stopped saying those words after the first night. Actually, she did not even recall having the nightmare. Not until last night, I suppose. She was terribly aversive to the spell—"

"—And that's why we have no reason to mention it again this morning!" broke in a new voice, cheery but resolute.

Ulquiorra and his two classmates immediately re-directed their attention to the door, which was now open. Leaning against doorway was yet another new arrival in the shop: wavy-haired Rangiku, who almost busting out of her own school uniform. Behind the shinigami lieutenant was Orihime. She was clutching her bookbag in one hand, and hugging her previous night's attire against her chest with the other. Underneath that damned timid smile, she looked unsettled.

She had been listening.

But how much did she hear? How long had she been standing there? What did she have to say about it all?

None of it was addressed, however. Rangiku decided to take it upon herself to lead the group to Karakura High. "We'll be late," she announced in a sing-song voice, and turned, sauntering past Orihime and out the shop.

Ulquiorra's eyes caught the redhead's, inquisitive. What he wanted out of her, he didn't know, but even if he did, he wouldn't end up with any answers. Her distant gray orbs seemed defensive, like she refused to acknowledge anything Tia had said. It was reflective of the night before, just before she finally confessed what had been disturbing her.

_Onna, what is going on with you?_

The emotion he had at that moment was a troublesome one. He never quite felt it in this magnitude before, because he had always been reasonable and calm, confident in his endeavors and thoughts. But now his mind was wrapped around that little woman. Ulquiorra was anxious _for_ her. He was worried. Not only because of what Tia hinted, nor what happened last night, but because...

Orihime finally pulled her gaze away, clumsily, and followed Rangiku alongside Grimmjow and Tia. Ulquiorra found himself actually fighting the urge to catch up with her.

_... Because what?_

How would he describe this illogical longing?

"YA BETTER HURRY, ULQUIORRA!" yelled Grimmjow's voice from somewhere in the shop. "AND YOU SAY I'M THE DUMBASS!"

Ulquiorra froze. He had been so deep in his musings that he realized, as he looked down at his own attire, that he wasn't even ready to go to school yet.

Illogical, indeed.

\- { - } -

It was rare that Orihime's human friends treated Tia and the others with any respect other than the obligatory civil things done for the healer's sake. But with Rangiku—a woman on assignment—as an addition to the party, it was hard to keep the groups separate.

Ever since the Resurrected "transferred" to the school, Orihime had been dividing her lunch hour between her old friends and new, since neither group was willing to fully associate with each other, much less eat together. It wasn't that Ichigo and the others weren't used to Arrancars living like humans; it was mainly a matter of pride, mostly coming from Ichigo himself.

Unlike the shyer Orihime, Rangiku was more forward about forcing the Hollow-slayers and the ex-Hollows together. And rather than crowding in the classroom, she insisted on eating on the school roof. According to the lieutenant, it was so that she could keep an eye on the three while "getting to socialize" with Orihime and the others.

 _"The hell?"_ Ichigo had initially retorted to Rangiku. _"Why do you have to see us so bad, anyway? We're not part of your damn mission!"_

Or were they? Tia had a feeling that she and her fellow former Espadas weren't the only ones being looked after. Rangiku always had an additional eye on the red-haired healer herself, but no pointed questions or calculating actions.

Uryuu had been less rambunctious about the additional presence, although he wasn't exactly excited to see Tia, Ulquiorra, and Grimmjow in their company. _"I'm sure Matsumoto-san has some sort of justifiable excuse,"_ he added, adjusting the bespectacles on his face.

But what would that be? Did Rangiku—no, not just her, the Gotei 13—somehow know about Orihime's so-called flashbacks? How much more was there to the story? Why was it all so hush-hush? What she had talked about with Ulquiorra that morning was still on her mind, but outwardly forgotten by everyone else.

As if nothing happened that morning.

Tia couldn't shake the feeling off; the weight of several secrets from all sides, despite everyone's usual antics. However, to announce her thoughts to these people would be unwise, especially if she expected a clean answer... which she didn't, of course.

It was after school now, and while everything seemed ordinary, from the barrage of homework on subjects she didn't fully understand, to the chorus of idle chatter from the students around her exiting the building for the day, the blonde found herself monitoring Rangiku herself, especially when she spotted her down the hallway from her classroom.

Tia's footsteps came to a stop a few feet away from the shinigami, noting the way the sultry woman leaned her shoulder against the wall, gazing out of the window with a concentrated brow.

"Matsumoto-san," Tia said, making her presence known.

Calmly, the blue-eyed woman swiveled her head from the window to the former Tres Espada, a small grin of acknowledgement gracing her features. "Tia-san," Rangiku greeted pleasantly. "Or should I say, Haribe-san?"

Tia approached the same window, coming up beside her fellow "transfer student," and glancing out. Below them, in the school yard near the gates, was Orihime herself, seemingly in a better mood. She was in the company of a stoic Ulquiorra and an annoyed Grimmjow. She was speaking to the former (who was listening obediently), while the latter seemed to be paying more attention to Ichigo, Yasutora, and Rukia, who were about to join them (or rather, just Orihime).

"Should we get a move on before Grimmjow and Kurosaki duke it out?" Rangiku joked with a playful wink.

Tia didn't reply. That wasn't what was on her mind. She just needed to know something. "Inoue-san's... _flashbacks..."_ she spoke up, using the term Grimmjow had used earlier. "...they intrigue you."

Rangiku merely shrugged, noncommital. "If you happened to eavesdrop on a particular conversation such as the one this morning, wouldn't you feel the same way?"

"Doubly so if I were a shinigami," Tia replied succinctly.

"Mm? What do you mean by that?" The tone was getting on a bit of the suspicious side.

"I did not want to make hasty assumptions based on an outsider's mere observation," the blonde began seriously. "But since I pride myself in having a propensity in reading others, I must wonder..." She peered at the other woman's eyes carefully. "Do you have other agenda for being here?"

Rangiku's eyes widened at first, crystal blue orbs sliding toward her companion in surprise.

But after a moment... a slow smile spread across her face, knowing but equally cryptic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rearrange scenarios for the Winter War battles because of what Orihime did with the Hougyoku. That fact changed some stuff from what happened in the manga. Hopefully the changes aren't too drastic given the circumstances. If I fuck up the timeline in regards to the fights, sorry. There's so much of it and I don't want to sit through all the chapters/wikia to get it all in my head. Orz


	7. Adagio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something very grounded and real when it came to Ulquiorra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Lunar Dream" by S.E.N.S.; "Yellow" by Jem; "Resistance" by Muse.

_\- { slowly } -_

The group had parted for the day: Rukia and Ichigo in one direction, and Yasutora in the other. Uryuu was off at Handicrafts Club (which Orihime, unusually, decided to not partake in). And although Orihime walked along the same path as Ichigo toward her own home, she decided to stay in Ulquiorra's company, not really wanting to leave the campus just yet.

"Well, I ain't stickin' around," Grimmjow announced in a grunt, folding his arms behind his head. He glanced at Tia expectantly.

She shook her head, tipping her head in light apology. "You go ahead," she said. She expected him to shrug in a _suit yourself_ sort of way and wander off, but he didn't. Instead, he scowled. "What the hell? Why?" he asked irritably.

This was humorous. "Did you want me to accompany you? I didn't realize my presence was so important—"

" _Hell_ no, it ain't that!" he argued in hotheaded defense, cutting her off. He spun on his heel. "I was just used to ya following me around." Without waiting for a response, he grumbled something unknown under his breath and stomped off.

Orihime seemed a little surprised by the exchange. She frowned dumbfoundedly at Tia, but didn't say anything.

Well, the blonde had to admit that the pair-offs within the group were very routine. Rukia and Ichigo (and sometimes with Uryuu and Yasutora) always went off in one direction; Grimmjow and herself went into another; while intriguingly (albeit sweetly), Orihime and Ulquiorra were left to their own devices. They were obviously getting closer as the weeks in Earth went by, and it was only a matter of time before they consummated their relationship.

Tia offered a reassuring smile toward the gray-eyed girl. "Matsumoto-san and I are going to—"

"Drink!" the shinigami supplied cheerfully. "And eat!"

Tia was perfectly capable of coming up with her own excuses, but it was good enough. She simply nodded, affirming Rangiku's enthusiastic words.

Ulquiorra glanced at his fellow ex-Hollow suspiciously, but he, too, didn't say anything. At least, nothing that was on his mind. Instead, he quietly uttered a, "Let's go, Woman," and turned. Orihime, looking apologetic, quickly bowed in parting and jogged after him.

And then, there were two. Both Tia and Rangiku stared out the gates, the ends of Orihime's orange-red hair flying behind her as she and Ulquiorra went out of sight.

"So, Miss Impatient," Rangiku said lightly. "Shall we get going?" At Tia's glowering look of affirmation, she continued. "I guess so," she assumed. "Even though I talked about all I could talk about..."

. .

 _Rangiku's hidden smile provided enough of an answer for Tia._ _"... Do you plan on letting us know about what it is Soul Society wants?" the blonde asked carefully, eyes narrowed._

_After a pause, the shinigami couldn't hold the defensive stance any longer. Her posture went at ease, her expression relaxing in a helpless manner. She glanced out the window again, rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably. "Yeah," she finally said, her light blue eyes softening as she watched Orihime enjoy herself, surrounded by her friends—her only family, so to speak._

_"Well?"_

_She frowned dubiously. "Well what?" Clearly, she was still adamant about telling the Resurrected Plus the full extent of her mission._

_Tia folded her arms across her chest. "I'm tired of tiptoeing around Inoue-san. What is it you want from her?"_

_Rangiku arched an eyebrow. "How do you know that this is about—"_

_"It's obviously_ always _about Inoue-san," Tia asserted, deadpanned. "From the moment she rejected the Hougyoku up to now. I do not understand what Yamamoto Genryuusai meant during that meeting before our exile, but I am certain now—considering her strange nightmares—that something unusual happened during the Winter War, and that she played a major role in it."_

_"..."_

_"I am also certain," Tia continued, her expression growing harder, "that it is so_ traumatizingly _unusual that Inoue-san conveniently suppressed it, but now you and Yamamoto are going to bring everything back up and destroy her emotionally."_

_Rangiku held her hands up to halt her. "Hey! Don't blame me!" she protested. "I'm only following the order my captain and captain-commander have given me. I know Orihime-chan, Tia-san. I don't want her to live in blissful ignorance, but at the same time, I don't want to see her in pain like that. It's just—" She sighed. "It's beyond our abilities as shinigami. It's beyond even Ushouda Hachigen, the Vizard who has powers similar to hers. There are still things we have to clean up and fix, and she's the only one who can."_

_"... What?"_

_Rangiku pursed her lips together, her pale blue eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. She had said too much._

_But the wheels were already turning in the blonde's head, questions and assumptions filling her mind, their holes and blurry edges notwithstanding. "Matsumoto-san," Tia pressed. "What is going on?"_

_"You will all know after I'm done with my observations," the voluptuous woman managed to reply._

_"There is no point in waiting."_

_"But—"_

_"You didn't exactly deny my allegations," Tia interrupted, serious as ever. "You went this far. You might as well finish the rest. At least for me."_

_Rangiku sighed. "This is top secret Soul Society stuff here." She looked at everything around her except at the student before her. "I wasn't supposed to say anything."_

_"Say_ what _?"_

_Rangiku pursed her lips together._

_"Matsumoto-san." Her voice was quietly threatening._

_There was really no way around it. The blonde was nosy and hardheaded. Even if she walked away this very second, Tia would probably hound her in her silently pressing way._

_"I guess you'll be coming with me after school today," the shinigami said softly, stepping away from the window. She casually made her way to the stairwell without another word._

_Even with the abrupt end of the conversation, she knew that Tia understood well._

. .

The blonde shifted her green eyes to the other woman. "Can I trust that you know what you're doing?"

Rangiku had to smile at the ardent concern. "Lieutenants have to have some credibility, you know." She playfully nudged the blonde with her elbow, leading the way to her apartment (which once housed Yumichika and Ikkaku when they were on assignment in the human world). "Come on. We can talk over a good bottle of sake."

\- { - } -

"I have not seen your home yet."

Orihime paused in mid-step, his words, along with multiple questions, ringing awkwardly in her head. "M-My home?" she repeated with a stammer, wondering why he suddenly brought that topic up.

Beside her, Ulquiorra nodded slightly, a bit of curiosity threaded into his deep voice. "Yes. You have visited me plenty of times, but I have yet to see where you live."

"You've walked me home before, though."

"Not inside."

"But that's a little..."

"Is there a problem?" he asked. Despite his arrogant intelligence and logic, there were still things he was clueless about.

Orihime was rather demure when it came to male company. Her being bedridden after the Winter War did not count; neither did any of the visits from male shinigami such as Toushiro. Those weren't visits of leisure. Ulquiorra being inside her apartment would indeed be a different case. It would imply that he was more than a simple friend.

_But is he?_

Now she felt more awkward than she had ever been. She had gotten comfortable with being around this man, but at some point in time, the warmth in her heart changed. The pounding in her chest began beating a different kind of rhythm.

"It's just..." she murmured unsurely, wringing her hands as they continued down the sidewalk. "You're a guy..." She paused. He didn't react. "... And I'm a teenage girl."

Silence again. A tad annoyed that Orihime wasn't being direct, Ulquiorra let out a small huff. "I don't understand," he said shortly.

The healer's apartment complex was coming into view.

Unconsciously, her steps slowed. He followed her pace, but was quick to notice the change of tempo. He tossed her a quick sidelong glance, but instead of asking her about it, he brought up her obscure words again. "What does my being male have to do with anything?" he questioned.

"Because it's more... proper in our culture for a man—I mean, like, someone like you—to not um, come into a girl's place—er, like mine—unless, uh, invited," she said, her explanation coming off as a disorganized ramble. "Something like that!" she finished with a chirpy tone.

"Have you... let others in?" was what came out of his mouth next, a dark eyebrow arched.

Was it just her, or did the former Arrancar seem a little offended? "Technically yes, but that was different!" she reassured him. "Kurosaki-kun, Ishida-kun, and Sado-kun only visited me because I was sick."

"Sick?" he repeated. "Was this before we reunited?"

 _Oh, I guess he never knew about that..._ she realized uneasily. _There are a lot of things he still doesn't know..._ "Yeah..."

No wonder he kept giving her weird looks whenever certain things came up in conversation, such as that morning when—

_I don't want to think about that right now._

She pouted contemplatively. It seemed so long ago, finding out that Ulquiorra had appeared in Soul Society, and even before that, waking up as if from a long coma. Her entire being had felt like jelly, as if someone had gone in and squeezed out every ounce of strength in her body. She had remembered little about what happened in the war, except for her kidnapping, and above all else, her interactions with her former captor.

Memories of his demise had gripped her, sharp and steadfast like the gnarled claws of Murciélago. And while she couldn't accept the injustice of _his_ death, she _did_ accept her role as the one who saved Soul Society and the living world by rejecting the Hougyoku, something she couldn't even recall. It didn't feel like her own memories, although she held on to that claim-to-fame for the appearance of strength. Overall, she didn't like wrapping her head around complex subjects like the circumstances behind her coma. She wanted to move on from the war. But even when she tried, things continued to haunt her.

"Onna, is something wrong?" he asked, something cautious in his default monotone.

"Oh, I'm fine!" she replied, unusually cheerful. "Is something wrong with you?"

"... No." He seemed like he was going to say something else, but chose not to. Instead, he mutely continued the rest of the walk to her place, to the front of the complex.

Usually, their trek together ended there, and they would part with amicable goodbyes, but he didn't move when Orihime threw up her hand in a friendly wave. Both his hands were shoved into his pockets, and he was staring at her.

She tried not to swallow out of self-consciousness. Those emerald greens were dizzyingly endless, and she found herself wanting to fall into them. She was unable to decide if she wanted to sprint up the stairs so she could get away from the unnervingly piercing gaze, or to stay where she was and let herself grow weak in the knees.

Other than her inner bedlam, nothing between them happened. Orihime wished she knew what was on his mind, but he was just so poker-faced.

Finally, Ulquiorra spun on his heel. "Good night, Onna," he said over his shoulder, his voice normal, but somehow too casual for her liking.

"G-good night..."

But what was she to do?

The distance between them increased as he calmly walked away, but the red-haired healer didn't want to let him go. Not just yet.

"Ulquiorra-kun," she called suddenly; without thinking.

 _(-Kun... I used -kun...)_ The awareness of it stunned her momentarily, but she wasn't the only one. She saw that for once, _she_ was the one who rendered _him_ still with her voice, with the command laced in the words.

Her eyes bored into his back, watching the man's muscles tense at the sound of his name attached to the new suffix. His head turned first, revealing inquisitive serpentine eyes before the rest of his body followed suit.

Their gazes locked briefly, and Orihime lost her breath for a second. She didn't remember exactly what she needed to say, but she found her feet moving forward, both her hands reaching for him. Her fingers wrapped around his arm cautiously. Her face burned a sheepish red.

"Come inside," she managed to say without stuttering. Her silver-gray irises looked up at him shyly but invitingly, her warmth—rather than the force of her hands—pulling him in the direction of the staircase.

His eyes fell to her cheeks, resulting in a small, lopsided smirk on his lips. "Do not force yourself to invite me if that is not—"

"No!" she exclaimed quickly. "I-I... insist." And for good measure, she added: "I want to. You... deserve to know more about me."

It was true. She discovered that she had been so caught up with her troubles and nightmares that she really hadn't been as reliant on Ulquiorra as he allowed her. She also hadn't been helping him become a better person and friend (and human, at that, although he wasn't have less and less complications in that department now).

Ulquiorra observed her oddly at first, and then nodded his thanks, stepping in closer.

_He feels warm..._

Side by side, and in the unadmitted comfort of each other's company, they headed up to her home.

As Orihime fished her key out of her pocket, she made a startling realization. It made her heart skip a beat and then pulse back into an unexplainably painful cadence.

One of her arms had been linked through his the entire trip up the stairs.

\- { - } -

A certain blue-haired ex-Espada was lazily lying face up on the tatami mat in the dining area of Urahara Shouten. His head was on one of the floor cushions, his chin raised so he could stare at his surroundings upside down.

He was that bored.

By late afternoon, Grimmjow had cooled down from the slight annoyance of Tia ditching him, but it also resulted in having absolutely nothing to do and no one to talk to.

Something furry and black blocked his entire vision. "What are you doing?" it asked, the tone curious and nonchalant.

"None of your business, you fucking cat."

The other residents of the household didn't count.

"Fucking cat? Hm, you're one to talk, _Jaguar_ -jacquez," was Yoruichi's humored, but snarky reply. She cast a quick glance at his bookbag, which had been thrown unceremoniously on the ground in the middle of the room. Random sheets of paper had managed to slip out, strewn out in a small fan next to the bag. "I see that neither of the other Resurrected have had enough influence on you."

"What?"

"It would help if you cleaned up after yourself in common areas," she hinted, gesturing with her nose toward Grimmjow's bookbag.

He eyed it briefly. "Guess it would," he retorted, unmoving.

Immediately, he felt two cat paws against his face, slammed against his cheeks like a double feline slap. The action didn't hurt all too much until he felt the claws emerge, piercing into his gigai's flesh and dragging lightly across the poor man's face.

Grimmjow howled a sharp string of curse words that echoed throughout the store. He made a grab for the furry limbs, but attempting to pry them from his face only resulted in a stronger, more stinging pain as she continued to hold on to him.

"I _said_ ," Yoruichi reiterated, the elderly voice a dead, dangerous calm, "it would _help_ if you cleaned up after yourself in _common areas_."

"Okay, okay! Fuck dammit!" he yelled. To his utter relief, the surprisingly strong cat let go of him. Begrudgingly—and quite painfully—Grimmjow rolled over, pulled to his feet, and dragged himself to his bookbag, cleaning up the modest mess he had made.

Grimmjow slipped the bag over his shoulder, frowning deeply at Yoruichi, who was watching him. "What the fuck's your problem?" he asked her, clearly not understanding the big deal about leaving things on the floor.

She snorted a little. "I was just teasing," she replied simply, despite her not-so-simple actions.

"YOU CALL THIS TEASING?" he barked, pointing a shaking finger at the whisker-like catscratches on his cheeks.

She blinked. "It's not like they'll scar."

With one loud grunt, Grimmjow trudged in the direction of his room. "I don't know why the hell you care," he mumbled grumpily.

"You can think of me as a mother, hm? You know, your _okaasan_?"

He stopped, the word strange in his mind and on his lips. "Okaasan?" he echoed, turning to the cat with a raised eyebrow.

Yoruichi seemed a little taken aback at first, her waving tail freezing in mid-sway and her amber eyes rounding. "Oh, that's right," she said finally. "Hollows wouldn't remember what it's like to have a family."

"The fuck you babbling about? Family?"

"Your mother and father conceive you, then—"

"Oh." He waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, yeah, I already know the reproduction shit. But I don't see where your nagging comes in."

"Well, if you let me finish, then I'll explain," Yoruichi responded with tested patience. She cleared her throat. "A mother and father raise a child and look out for them as they grow older, seeing to his or her best interest even if it means telling him or her what to do—"

"Like Aizen?"

The black cat tsked in thought. "Yes, but he lacked the love and care part. And the natural conception." She seemed a bit disturbed by the latter thought.

Grimmjow scowled, but otherwise seemed satisfied with the answer. He had another question in mind, though. "Well, then... don't mothers have to be women?"

"Yeah. So?"

The blue-eyed student gestured at her rather rudely, his chin briefly tilting upward. "You're an old man, Yoruichi. Why the hell didn't you say the word father?"

"After all this time, you still don't know," Yoruichi sighed.

He furrowed a brow.

"Yoruichi!" called Kisuke from the doorway. "They're here!"

The call caught Grimmjow's attention, his head perking up in curiosity. "What the hell?" he spoke up. "Who's—"

_Poof!_

Grimmjow jumped back, an arm automatically shielding himself at the sudden... well, what, exactly?

He lowered his limb slowly, with caution. Peeking over the length of his forearm, he found that instead of the black cat he knew and did not love, there was a dark-skinned, violet-haired, ample-chested woman standing before him.

Naked.

Rather than the instinctive ogle most males would have resorted to, Grimmjow felt a shiver of incredible discomfort run up his back. He took a step backward. "Wha—" he uttered bewilderedly. "What the—"

"What the hell is going on!" a red-faced Ichigo finished for him in a mortified screech from somewhere behind the ex-captain's nude form. One of the human shinigami's arms spread out to guard Rukia next to him, as if the nakedness would offend her (which didn't).

Yoruichi put a hand on her hip, waving a dismissive hand at both the males. "I was just showing Grimmjow that I'm indeed qualified to be his mother."

"Mother!" Ichigo sputtered, he and Grimmjow clearly more embarrassed than Yoruichi, Rukia, and the sidelined Kisuke combined. "By flaunting your body everywhere?"

"So he can see that I'm a woman rather than an elderly black cat," she explained easily, smirking. "But, anyway," she turned back to Grimmjow, giving the poor guy a full-frontal view of her cleavage, among other things. "Don't you have homework to do?"

Grimmjow turned his head to the side, folding his arms over his chest.

"Funny," Ichigo remarked to him, never missing an opportunity to take a jab at the former Arrancar. "You never struck me as the type to pull an Ulquiorra."

"Orange dipshit," Grimmjow shot back. The reaction was a bit harsh for what was said to him, but he was taking advantage of an opportunity of his own: riling Ichigo up enough for a good spar. The muscular guy has been itching to fight the shinigami, especially when he heard that he had all sorts of crazy things up his black robe sleeve, other than what he had already seen before.

"What the fuck did you say?" Ichigo questioned with a leer. "I'm two seconds from beating your ass to the ground!"

 _Just as planned_ , Grimmjow thought. He grinned sinisterly and cracked his knuckles. "Then bring it!" he cackled. "The training grounds! Let's go!"

"There's no chance in hell you could even lay a finger on me!" the human boy scoffed arrogantly. "I'll kick your ass back to Hueco Mundo without even releasing anything!" He pointed at the scratches on Grimmjow's face. "You couldn't even beat a cat!"

"Aw, yeah, tough guy?" Grimmjow challenged, his smile growing wider. "Let's see ya fight without those releases!"

"You got it!"

"Good!"

"FINE!"

"IT'S SETTLED!"

"Oi!" Rukia shouted over them vehemently, simultaneously ramming her fists into the stomachs of either hotheaded boy. "You'll have time to bruise each other _later_!"

"What the _fuck_ , Rukia!" Ichigo yelled in strain, doubled over from the female's aggression. "That hurt!"

"Hah! Weakass."

Ichigo shot a glare at Grimmjow. "Hey, it hurt you, too!"

"Nothing like a lively bunch!" Kisuke gushed to no one in particular, fanning himself gently.

Yoruichi poofed back into a cat, letting out a contemplative hum while the younger ones continued to verbally assault each other.

"Why am I not surprised that none of you have done anything productive?" came Uryuu's voice from behind the shop owner, the Quincy making himself known in the midst of the noise.

Unfazed by the comment, both Kisuke and Yoruichi turned. The former greeted the bespectacled boy (and Yasutora, who quietly accompanied him) with a cheerful smile. "Let them let it all out, I say," he replied easily. "Killing Hollows must be a stressful job."

"I prefer to think you're just easily amused," Uryuu said a bit haughtily, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.

Kisuke shrugged, and held his hands up to clap the palms together, calling everyone's attention. "Everyone~" he cooed. "I believe it's time we get settled. There's much to discuss."

"You did _not_ just clap your hands at us like schoolchildren," Ichigo steamed, glaring heatedly at the sandy-haired man.

"Pipe down, Ichigo," Yoruichi harrumphed. "You can take your frustrations out later, after this is over." That said, she tossed a serious glance at Grimmjow, whose lips twitched in instant annoyance at the cat's attention. "As for you," she said, "You should go—"

"Wait, Yoruichi-san," Rukia said, her expression serious. "Let him sit in. He knows."

Everyone stared at the both of them. Ichigo was the last to dart his eyes to her. "What!" He almost looked betrayed as he hitched an accusing thumb at the former Sexta Espada. "Why the hell would you tell _him_?"

Rukia didn't seem too pleased at the way her noisier half spoke up. She opened her mouth to snap at him, but in an unexpected turn of events, Grimmjow broke in instead.

"I forced it out of her," he said gruffly.

Another incredulous _WHAT!_ was heard.

Rukia blinked up at her former enemy, surprised that he more-or-less spoke up on her behalf. "Huh? But that's not entirely—"

"God, just let it be, Chibi," he said to her, rolling his sky blue eyes. "It doesn't matter. I know what's up with La Princesa. At least, some of it from what you told me."

She nodded sullenly, and then turned to Yoruichi and Kisuke.

The cat regarded both the shinigami and the big, blue-haired figure with a serious expression. "I know you to be smart, Rukia," she said, letting out a breath of resignition. "If you trust this fool here, then we will, too."

"Fool!" Grimmjow shouted crossly. "I didn't tell _shit_ to anyone, I'll have ya know!" Conveniently, he left out the little slip-up with the other Resurrected that morning, but he would just deal with that another day.

"Whatever you say, Grimm-kun!" the other former captain piped up, looking much more enthusiastic than his feline counterpart. Unlike her, he seemed to welcome Grimmjow's presence in his audience, and after the boy was settled, he moved on with what he needed to do.

He tapped his fan against his stubbled chin in thought. "It would be much more useful if Matsumoto-san was here. Two birds, one stone."

"I don't know where the hell that big-boobed bitch is," Grimmjow jeered. "She and Tia ran off together after school."

Yoruichi glanced at him, her ears perked forward in intrigue. "I see being without Tia upsets you."

"Shut up!" Grimmjow growled through clenched teeth. "She helps me with the damn homework! Her _and_ Ulquiorra, but that dick's been too busy fucking around with Princesa!"

Uryuu's expression immediately soured, but he didn't say anything. Ichigo, on the other hand, scowled, and was about to voice his own opinion of the group "princess" of sorts "fucking around"—as Grimmjow put it—with an _Espada_ , when Yasutora laid a powerful hand on his shoulder.

"Let it be," he murmured wisely. "We have other things to worry about. You know Inoue is safe in his hands, Kurosaki, whether you like it or not." He glanced at Uryuu. "The same goes for you, Ishida."

Unwillingly, Ichigo shut up, the warm anger of his prejudice slowly cooling. Uryuu merely huffed in response.

"Anyway," Kisuke said, suddenly looking much more cunning with the raccoon-like shadows around his eyes. He abruptly swiveled his head to Tessai, who had been quietly observing the group from the background. "The box, please."

The apron-clad man disappeared into a room next to them, a storage room if Grimmjow remembered correctly. When he re-emerged seconds later, he was holding a cardboard box. The group could hear the _clack_ of several hard objects inside, just as mysterious as Kisuke himself.

Tessai set the box soundly on the table.

Leaning forward from their respective seats on the floor surrounding that table, everyone peered in.

"You've gotta be kidding me," grunted Ichigo, rolling his eyes.

\- { - } -

For the first time since Aizen Sousuke turned on her in the war, Tia had been tricked.

The idle chatter with Rangiku during the walk to the shinigami's temporary home had been easy—the two of them got along quickly. Even though Tia was sharp compared to the strawberry blonde's softer disposition, the women still managed to form a camaderie.

It was when she arrived at Rangiku's cluttered, messy apartment—the confines of a private home—that she resorted to getting down to business. But, _"nonsense, nonsense!"_ the buxom woman had exclaimed, waving a hand in front of her furiously. They needed some sake to clear the tense moods from that day. Judging from her character, Tia knew better than to turn her down.

Where Rangiku got the alcohol, Tia didn't know, but it seemed to be a social gesture, an indication of comfort and trust within a friendship, celebrating amicable bonds.

Perhaps the notion of trust on Tia's part came a little too soon.

Since her tolerance was nil due to her lack of experience, so to speak, the blonde was left swaying and grasping for the edges of the table, while Rangiku was able to get away from explaining herself.

She did this on purpose.

It really pissed the blonde off.

So now, Tia's upper half was sprawled over the low table. She was, at the moment, taking slow, conservative breaths as she fought the urge to throw up. Her head was spinning; she had to close her eyes and bury her alcohol-heated face into the cool surface of the table to calm herself down and gather her wits.

"I'm really, really sorry," Rangiku murmured, looking honestly apologetic.

The blonde heard the clink of a cup; a different one from the one she and Rangiku been using to drink sake. It was heavier. Water, perhaps. But Tia couldn't care less.

"Please understand," the shinigami continued. "They're orders I don't have the power to contest. I can't say much. Mainly because I _know_ you and Ulquiorra will keep her here."

Tia forced herself to sit up properly, but her head was still swimming like she was caught in a turbulent storm. She groaned at this misfortune. "Keep her here?" she managed to echo.

"Yeah," Rangiku affirmed. "Among other things." Satisfied with the short, but vague statement, she began to walk away, possibly to get some fresh air outside.

 _No, I will not allow her to leave me like this,_ Tia thought, her glazed eyes boring into the woman's back. _I cannot let anyone forget who Inoue Orihime is to me._ The blonde pulled herself away from the table and reached out deftly. She managed to fist the hem of Rangiku's uniform skirt.

The lieutenant immediately froze, grabbing the edge of the garment from her before it went down her legs. "What are you doing!" she exclaimed, shocked at first. "Don't tell me you're a perv!" She chuckled a bit as she smoothed the skirt out. "You can be pretty funny when you're drunk."

Tia wasn't laughing. "Do you expect me to sit here and forget?" Her hardened gaze caught Rangiku's, seizing her frozen expression with a determined glare. "That just because you tried to poison me with alcohol—"

"Poison you?" Rangiku repeated, incredulous but unadmittedly intimidated by the former Tres Espada. "I wasn't—"

"You know exactly what I mean." Tia rose to her feet, wobbly because of her spinning vision, but still certain in her action.

Rangiku furrowed a brow, as if wondering if Tia was really drunk.

The blonde could tell that Rangiku was not absolutely resolute in her mission, and that she indeed had a soft spot for Orihime. However, it wasn't enough for the death god to rebel against orders. Although Tia promised herself that she would no longer be overbearing toward the redheaded healer, she still couldn't stand the skirting around issues, the suppression of things.

"What is it you're trying to hide from me?" Tia asked her. "From all of us, Inoue-san included?"

"..."

"Don't you dare go back on your word."

"I didn't promise anything."

"That is no excuse."

The strawberry blonde forced her gaze away, looking down at the ground pensively. After a minute or two, she took a step forth and fished something out of her skirt pocket.

Tia observed her wordlessly, a fine eyebrow arched.

Opening her palm in front of her, Rangiku revealed a tiny, black, cylindrical container.

"A container," Tia stated plainly.

Rangiku nodded, and then twisted it open, revealing inside a small, pinkish-red pill. "This container was given to me before I came down to Earth," she said. "It's a pill that forces reiatsu out of a person's body."

Tia was already twice as concerned. If memory served her correctly, the power behind Orihime's hairpins wasn't what it once was. Something about them seemed more dangerous, and Tia wasn't sure if Rangiku was aware of the precautions.

"You will give that to her?" she asked. "I do not recommend—"

"I already did," was the reply. "I had two. I gave her one."

Tia was rendered silent. Her face must have looked ashen, because Rangiku's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "... What's the matter?" Rangiku asked. "What happened?"

The blonde sat up properly and took in a deep breath, composing herself the best she could given her dizziness. "Inoue-san's nightmares," she began softly. "They were... flashbacks. Am I correct?"

Rangiku paused. "... It depends on what happened in these nightmares."

Tia frowned slightly. "She will not tell me. She does confide in Ulquiorra about them, however. But that is not the point." She pointed to an area on her head past her temple, approximately where Orihime clasped her blue Shun Shun Rikka pins. "The pins," she continued, "seem to activate even while she sleeps and dreams. I only caught one instance of this, but the one night I awoke was when I saw it."

Rangiku didn't say anything, perhaps taking extra precaution in what came out of her mouth. The neutral look was somewhat unnerving, however, because Tia couldn't read past it, unable to tell what she was thinking.

She continued, anyway. "You recall her... _fushokuten shishun_ , do you not?"

The shinigami's expression grew more somber. "... Yes," she admitted hesitantly. "Harribel-san, where are you going with this?"

"She said those words in her sleep," Tia explained. "And something strange happened. Her pins—which she removed before she slept—glowed. The aura around them was both familiar and unfamiliar. Silent warning was shoving its way into my being, and from that, I knew that I must wake her up. So, I did. Ever since then, Inoue-san has been... not completely well.

"These bad dreams plague her, and I do not know what happened near the end of the war, but I can sense a heavy suppression of memories. Trauma as well... and I _know_ that Yamamoto Genryuusai, at the very least, is quite aware of this. "

The blue-eyed woman pressed an anxious hand to her heart, worriedly contemplative, the shinigami mask she wore slipping as she became just plain Matsumoto Rangiku again. "She still..."

Her voice trailed off.

Tia watched her, no less suspicious despite Rangiku's obvious concern for Orihime, and the fact that she had been ordered, unwillingly, to do whatever she needed to do. "Matsumoto-san, why are you _really_ here in the living world?"

"I can't say." There was a soft waver in her voice. It was the opening Tia needed.

"Matsumoto-san." The Resurrected sighed heavily. "Please. Your intervention may have made things worse. I know you care greatly about Inoue-san. It is more for her benefit than for ours if you tell me what Soul Society is doing."

The lieutenant flinched. After taking a long while to mull things over, she relented. With a quiet, somber breath, she spoke. "I have to bring her back to Seireitei to fix the interdimensional barriers."

It didn't seem so bad to Tia at first. Or was she just not able to think it through properly because of her drunkenness.

"In order to do that, she must tap into the power from her dreams and work with it backward," Rangiku continued, sounding like an expert on the matter.

Rangiku sighed, offering an apologetic glance. "Harribel-san, the deteriorating barrier isn't a trivial thing. The longer the balance stays unstable, the harder it'll be in the long run to maintain the possibly higher rates of Hollows trying to come in to this world or Soul Society."

The shinigami shrugged regretfully. "I was only given orders, and I am carrying them out. This is my job; I can't turn away from it. My main objective, however, is to bring her back to Seireitei to seal the barriers... although, I don't know how she'll accomplish that. It might take too much out of her."

"Unless Kurotsuchi Mayuri plans something _else_ ," Tia guessed, her voice slurred but clear with disgust.

Rangiku sighed softly, and then nodded. "But as I said... it's out of my hands. I'm only to bring her back."

Tia had the sudden urge to _really_ throw up, but she couldn't figure out if it was from the copious amounts of alcohol in her system, or the fact that Orihime might become a lab rat without her knowing.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra- _kun_. Orihime had called him that, and continued to do so. He had finally joined the ranks of male familiarity that included Kurosaki Ichigo, Ishida Uryuu, and Sado Yasutora. Secretly, it made him feel... happy. That was what it was, wasn't it?

And yet, he still didn't understanding something. All she did was change his honorific. She went from being polite to being slightly more familiar, but something rode deeper within that. A description, nor a simple term, would have done it was like he had been struck with that overwhelming swell of want. It had somewhat always been there, but it had been escalating as of late. When he looked at Orihime, especially now, he just wanted to—to what? Touch her? No, that couldn't be it. That was far too impulsive.

But honestly, how far was that from the truth?

Should he ask her?

No, her circular reasoning might end up confusing him further. Of course, Ulquiorra was a smart person, but emotions and feelings were so complicated, sometimes beyond his comprehension. Ulquiorra only knew that he could think of nothing but her at the moment, and it annoyed him and amused him at the same time. He despised it because it was so strange, but at the same time, he didn't because...

_... I am growing fond of this woman. This is... attachment, is this not?_

Was it attachment that made him feel so awestruck?

It was like she was truly the god he made her to be.

He hadn't been paying attention to her chatter. Last he remembered, she was talking about her friends rather than herself, from the good memories of Arisawa Tatsuki to the grim ones of infilterating Soul Society to save Kuchiki Rukia from execution... just before the betrayal of Aizen Sousuke. After that was a blur of words and the ramble of her distinctive soprano.

He did, however, spot an interesting photograph on what looked like a shrine. It was one of an older man, possibly the chronological age older than Ulquiorra's own age appearance.

"Who is that?" Ulquiorra questioned.

Adjacent from him, Orihime smiled wistfully. "My older brother."

"Brother," he repeated, eyes narrowing curiously. Why hadn't he heard of him before?

Of course. Ulquiorra had almost forgotten that humans had a family, not only of blood, but of care and community; including the woman herself. However, it didn't take away from the fact that he knew virtually nothing about hers, nor where she came from, nor why she lived alone when the likes of Ichigo lived with several of his own family members.

"He died," she explained softly, entertwining her fingers in her lap. She looked down at them distantly, lost in memories of her kin, but she didn't speak up with anything else.

"What happened?"

"... Car accident," she said reluctantly, refusing to look at him.

_The event must have affected her this deeply._

He didn't understand much about familial love; only that it was different from this bond he shared with her. Hollows didn't have a bloodline to worry about. And even if there was some sort of similar relation, it would have never been cared about. Hollows, for the most part, had no consideration of each other. A sense of community would have been useless, as one would have easily betrayed the rest without a second thought.

"So it was a... car accident," he said, hoping to prompt her to say more. Not only for the conversation's sake, but just so she would confide in him a little more.

"Uh-huh." She self-consciously ducked her head.

Ulquiorra sighed softly, and out of consideration, turned his piercing green gaze from her. He faced the picture again. This subject was not something he should push. Maybe someday she would let him hear the whole story. They had all the time in the world, did they not?

Whatever the circumstances, he wanted to know everything about her. That feeling stayed with him all morning and all afternoon, up until even now. He craved her intimacy, the exclusivity of their company. She never seemed to mind spending time with only him; both have gotten used to it and didn't find the need to change it.

"I apologize," he said, without really knowing what he was apologizing for. He was used to speaking with purpose, his words always calculating and thoughful. But ever since being with Orihime, it was no longer the case. He spoke more spontaneously; the words would just come out. Naturally, but it was far from his old self.

"Why?" she asked him, gray eyes shifting upward to him.

Moreover, he was more truthful to her than he would like. He could not keep things from her to spare his cold, hard dignity.

"I don't know," he admitted simply, his eyes drifting to hers again.

She smiled sweetly. "It's okay," she replied, her voice ringing into the silence like melodic bells. "I... moved on."

It didn't take long for her to drop the subject and offer to give him a snack. He wasn't sure how he was going to stomach whatever ill-tasting things she planned for him, but he reminded himself that he had practically invited himself in. It was only fair, he supposed.

And soon enough, she brought out two warmed up meat buns, as well as two steaming cups of tea.

Instead of sitting on one of the adjacent sides of the table, she sat right beside him this time around. He sat crosslegged; she sat back on her heels. Their legs touched. Even through his uniform pants, he felt the warmth of her thigh. He was leaning back a bit, supporting his weight with his hands slightly behind him. One hand was a bit behind her sitting form, almost shoulder-to-shoulder. They were close enough where he could smell the flowery scent of her silky, vibrant hair, distracting him, but only for a second before catching himself.

He recalled telling Grimmjow how "aware" of her allure he was, but never in this magnitude. It was the little things, he realized, that made her endearing.

Ulquiorra didn't know if she was aware of their intimate positioning. If she was, then it would be unusual for her to act so casual. She tended to fret over a lot of unimportant things. But if she was going to be nonchalant, then there was no reason to act as if anything was out of the ordinary.

Besides, something else worried him. The more the knowledge of her nightmares and of her part in the war surfaced, the more it felt like she was deluding herself, ignoring the big black box in the room and running away.

He didn't want to destroy the atmosphere between them, however. His new life on Earth was loud (especially when living with Grimmjow and going to school with both him and Ichigo), confusing (he wasn't completely used to this world and its technologies), and different. He only found peace in spending alone time with Orihime, who was both patient and encouraging. She was perfect,

—he tried not to make an expression when he bit into the meat bun—

... except for a thing or two. Nonetheless, she was his ideal... _friend_.

But he assumed, from how things with her were done, that friends weren't supposed to let friends sink into depression, or to let their nightmares run rampant in their minds; awake or asleep. Especially not hers.

Ulquiorra hitched a breath at the thought. Actually, he would never dream of leaving Orihime in that state. Never. He even regretted thinking of it in mere passing. She was more than a friend; she was his _savior_. Even more so, she was the first person he ever truly cared about.

 _There is that... feeling... again_ , he noted to himself as the last of his reflection seeped into his head. _Longing._ It still didn't make a lick of sense.

Abandoning the rest of the bun, he turned to her.

"Onna. What happened?" he inquired rather unceremoniously, from out of the blue.

She paused mid-bite. "What do you mean?" She sounded cautious, as if on thin ice. One wrong move from him, and he might cause her to sink into the frigid waters of her night terrors. She knew where he was getting at, but he elaborated, anyway.

"The war. What happened?"

She blanched, but she didn't answer, as if she never heard him at all. She continued to eat, but he wasn't going to let go.

"Answer," he barked, causing her to flinch. He immediately regretted the change in tone; he didn't mean to come off that stern.

"... That's mean, Ulquiorra-kun," she finally mumbled. Even though the sentence in other situations had been playful, it sounded hurtful this time, and he had to force away the dense ball of guilt building in his stomach. He needed to know; for both her sake and for his as a Resurrected former Espada. No one else, not even his surrogate guardian, Urahara Kisuke, was going to tell him. Orihime was the center of it all, and he was the closest to it.

"Woman."

"Why is it so important?" she asked, borderline frantic. Suddenly without appetite, she set down the remainder of her meat bun on the plate in front of her. "I rejected it, okay? Nothing else, Ulquiorra-kun. Nothing!"

She was lying; it was in the fear flashing in her silver-gray eyes. It was like a repeat of the previous night.

She trembled.

He wanted to steady her... but instead, he pushed a little more. "Your nightmares were flashbacks."

"Stop it..." She shrank away from him as if he were going to hurt her. Her pretty gray eyes were rounded, lost and fearful, but something about them was so strange. There was no awareness in them, not for someone who knew what she did during the war. He distantly remember Ichigo mentioning something about a coma. It completely passed over his head after that night, but now... how could he have forgotten?

He snatched her upper arm before she could withdraw any further. He stared into her eyes again, searching. He knew her more than anyone, but he didn't know any of this. It wasn't just because he was distracted by new life adjustments; it was because she didn't acknowledge anything she did except for rejecting the Hougyoku.

But even then, she would mention that event as if only learning about it from the testimonies of her friends. She didn't carry the look of someone who fully understood the weight of what she had done.

Did she not remember?

Ulquiorra never recalled being so confused. "Onna," he said quietly, trying to sound as neutral as possible. "I must know."

"It doesn't matter!"

"It does to me."

She went still, staring at him in bewilderment. "But why?" Her raised eyebrows lowered to slight glare. "Is it... because of this duty you always talk about, Ulquiorra-kun?"

He blinked. Wasn't that much obvious? "Partly, yes."

Her arm, along with her entire body, grew limp, slumped with defeat. Ulquiorra didn't know what it meant, but he knew something about his words disappointed her. She didn't like his answer.

She stared at the edge of the table in front of her, a wall of orange-red silk guarding her face. She didn't speak anymore.

"Onna."

"I don't want to talk about it."

 _What did I do wrong?_ Despite the puzzlement, he went on. "Kurosaki Ichigo mentioned once that you had a coma." He paused. "... Was that when you were... sick?"

She frowned, her gaze unmoving. "Something like that."

"Something like that?" he echoed curiously. "Were you that much unaware?"

She shook her head. She still wouldn't look at him, however. "I don't remember," she confessed quietly. "When I woke up, I only knew that I rejected the Hougyoku, and that it took so much of my energy that I passed out, but I don't remember it actually happening."

He only looked on silently as she spoke, taking in her information as much as possible.

"Ishida-kun, Kurosaki-kun, Sado-kun, and Kuchiki-san were the first to tell me what I did. And even when I tried to remember things on my own, I'd get headaches instead." She laid a hand on her temple gingerly, her fingers recalling the pain. "So I only know bits and pieces."

Ulquiorra noticed one of her pins near her hand. "Was it the Shun Shun Rikka doing that?" he questioned tonelessly. It didn't seem plausible

"I don't know..." Her voice died away as her hand dropped back into her lap. The redhead was reluctant to say anymore, but by doing that, she made it clear to him that she was still keeping something away.

"I am not trying to make this an interrogation, Onna," he said in a low voice. "I just want to know so I can better my protection of you."

Again, she appeared crestfallen, but this time, it was paired with something strangely afire in her ash-colored depths. "I can take care of myself," she insisted, her tone a little darker than he expected. "I'm not weak, Ulquiorra-kun."

He closed his eyes briefly. "That is not what I meant."

"You already said it," she shot at him, her voice rising. "You, of all people, Ulquiorra-kun."

"Do not twist my words around." Ulquiorra glared at her, but that guilt in his gut continued to grow. "Stop overreacting. You mean much more than—"

"Than being your prisoner?" she cut in. "How much more? You still treat me like a charge your Aizen-sama left you." Tears in her eyes, she stood up and stomped to the kitchen with both plates, adding angrily, "This was supposed to be a nice afternoon with you."

The comment about him treating her as a charge was a low blow. An cold ache spread across his chest almost instantly and crippled his breath. Frustration quickly followed, washing over him like a splash of cold water: sudden and unwelcome. This was not how he imagined the visit to her apartment would go.

"It is not my fault I do not understand what is wrong with you, you foolish woman," he flared, following after the girl. He stopped when he reached her, standing behind her with his taller figure practically breathing down her neck. He noticed the shiver jerking her body when his lips neared her ear.

Her voice was firm, but at the same time, hurt. "Get away from me, Ulquiorra-kun."

But before he could respond to her, something completely unprecedented made itself known.

At first, it felt like an electric shock all over his body, the harmless kind that he got occasionally when he wore a scarf and tried to open a door with a metal handle. But seconds later, it became something like a crackle of fire, but without sound. It was a stinging, prickly feeling in the air that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Quickly, he looked down at his arms, and then his entire body, but they looked normal. Funny, they started to feel like they were burning.

_What is happening?_

He found his feet moving, backing away from her and the invisible flames in the air. The scorching aura seemed to follow, expanding.

Unusually, she didn't seem to notice. Nothing indicated her awareness.

She turned a wary gray eye toward him, noticing his rigid stance and his backpeddling footsteps. "Why do you look scared?" she asked, her tone still hard from their argument.

The aura around her seemed to lessen, but it still hurt, and it still made him rather anxious.

"Do you not feel that?" he asked her carefully.

"Huh?" she questioned humorlessly. She tried to step forward, but he automatically stepped backward, holding up a hand to signal her to stop.

"Stay where you are, Onna," he said cautiously.

_The chaotic fire around her... it's her reiatsu, isn't it?_

Understanding the depth of his concern, the bitterness on her face disappeared, only to be replaced by a slight panic, which did not bode well for the aura. It grew hotter, and Ulquiorra continued to walk backward from Orihime until he hit the wall.

"I don't understand..." she said hesitantly, clearly confused. She now stood in the middle of the apartment, watching Ulquiorra as he stood against the wall next to her door. Her posture was wary and frozen, as if she was standing on tightrope.

_How can she not feel it?_

"Your reiatsu, Onna." Ulquiorra frowned deeply. "It's leaping strangely." He paused to press his lips together in thought. He couldn't even conclude something reasonable. He didn't know what was causing it to reach out leap up like a raging fire. Was it her anger? But why would _this_ result from it? How did she gain such a thing? It was certainly not around during the Winter War. "This is not normally how it feels like."

"But I would know, wouldn't I?"

There was a sudden spike in the invisible fire. It felt like a lightning bolt jolted his body. He managed to hold back a grunt, but the pain was still clear on his face. It was in no way as bad as feeling a direct hit from a Cero, but as human as he was now, a Plus in a gigai, he could only handle so much. This was one of the few moments he wished he was still in his Espada body.

An increasingly worried Orihime went with her sympathetic instinct and started to move forward.

"No," he said firmly, halting her. "Just calm down."

"What do you mean, calm down!" she repeated disbelievingly.

Her reiatsu had spiked again. He took in a deep breath, taking in the pain as he found himself sinking down against the wall to the floor, but even the less tense position didn't relieve him. His body was on fire; he couldn't even feel his palms against the carpet, nor the cold, hard wall behind him. It felt like his skin was melting off his skin.

He tried to think of positive things to keep his mind off of it, like happier times with Orihime, smirking at her silly antics and having deeper conversations with her; hearing her voice call for him affectionately; having her near, having her arm harmoniously linked with his.

The former Cuatro thought of her arms around him, warm, soft, and full of pleasing aromas. For a moment, the imagery almost felt real.

Or was it?

Ulquiorra suddenly felt the breath of a harsh whisper against his ear, asking him what was happening to him. She hadn't listened to his request to stay put. She was on her knees in the space between his legs, latched on to him with her fingers gripping at his uniform shirt and her face buried against his chest. She was scared for him, he realized. She didn't want to see him in pain.

If he hadn't felt so out of sorts, he would have taken more notice of his heart jumping at the thought.

And suddenly, it began to dwindle, exponentially until it became nothing. It was so quick that for a second, it almost felt cold.

He wasn't sure what exactly happened, but he was relieved that the pain faded away without any lingering injuries. He was unwounded.

The apartment was quiet. There was no rumble of the unseen, no inaudible sounds of fire. Just a comfortable silence.

Ulquiorra looked down at the girl, who stared up at him, her face a mixture of tentative relief and ever-present confusion.

"Ulquiorra-kun?" she spoke up softly, as she unfisted her hands. They fell into her lap.

"Are you all right, Onna?" he asked her.

She smiled shyly, ducking her head a little. "I should be asking _you_ that."

He was unable to resist directing a soft look toward her, his hand gently laying itself on her head.

She stood up first. He followed suit a second later. Her expression seemed relaxed at first, but then it changed to distress. She looked like she discovered something unpleasant.

"... It was the pill, wasn't it?" Orihime said, staring at her palms as if the lines on them would provide her answers. "That's what causing my powers to..."

"What pill?" he questioned, furrowing a brow at her.

She stared up at him, clueless at his own cluelessness, like he was supposed to have known, too; or at least, supposed to have known the answer. "Rangiku-san gave me a pill this morning to help me stay awake." She frowned. "I thought it helped me, but..."

 _This morning_ , he thought with startling realization. _When Matsumoto Rangiku came to the shop._ By his own conclusion, Ulquiorra figured that the shinigami was hiding something after all. "She must have wanted you to think that," he reasoned aloud, his deep voice coming out as an angry rasp. With sudden resolve, he grabbed her by the wrist.

"Ulq—"

"We will see Urahara Kisuke," he told her, swiftly cutting the girl off. He was angry; not just at Rangiku for her actions, nor at Kisuke and Ichigo for their potential secrets, but also at Orihime for _not_ being as mad as he was. He hated the idea of her being used and knowing it. He thought she was far too good for that. Too special. As generous and nice as she was, she had doormat-like tendencies, when he knew, from having her as his captive, that she knew how to stand up for herself.

"Ulquiorra-kun," she tried again, but was soon interrupted, the man with her too caught up in his seething anger to let her speak.

"You shouldn't let them do this to you," he scolded her, dragging her to the front of the apartment where their shoes were. She nearly stumbled over herself at the reckless pull from his hand.

"D-Do what—?"

"There is something going on, beneath your nose," he went on, his eyes fiery, "and you are letting them—"

"What are you talking about?" she questioned over him, finally shutting him up. She tore her wrist away from him, rubbing it delicately as she gaped at him.

"It was just a pill," she asserted pleadingly. "Maybe Rangiku-san gave me the wrong one. She's not from the living world, after all. She could've easily mixed it up."

Ulquiorra cast her a look. "Or she gave it to you on purpose, with the intention of bringing out your powers in a dangerous manner."

"Rangiku-san wouldn't—!"

"What?" he asked sharply. "Hide anything?" He gripped her arm again, but more gently this time. His tone, too, was less abrasive. "What do you think your friends have been doing this entire time?"

Orihime didn't have an answer. He only saw the top of her head, tilted downward to hide her expression from him. If she leaned any closer, he would have felt the contours of her face against his chest, his heart, just like moments ago.

"How can you explain Matsumoto Rangiku's interruption this morning?" he continued, pushing aside the unexpected, overwhelming urge to _do_ something.

The redhead was quiet, perhaps reflecting on things. Her hands, wringing with her arms curled into her chest, indicated just how nervous she was.

A sense of protection creeped into him. With his free hand (the other still holding her arm), he slid his fingers through her bright tresses, stopping at an area on her neck behind her ear. The action caused her to move her gaze upward.

She was puzzled but flustered, her cheeks stained a deep red. Her pretty pink lips opened, but words seemed to have died in her throat. Ulquiorra could practically hear _both_ their hearts hammering in the silent room.

His thumb traced over a colored cheek, wiping away tears that weren't there. His emerald pools never strayed from her ashen grays. He was lost. Not just in her eyes, but in his actions. He really had no idea what he was doing. It was like his body had a life of its own.

All he really understood in that moment was that she was beautiful.

Orihime found her voice again. "Y-you're blushing, Ulquiorra-kun," she breathed, fascinated; just as lost as he.

Like an alarm, her whisper roused him out of his fixation on her. Both his hands abruptly dropped to his sides. He cleared his throat, as if doing so nullified the instance of gentleness between them.

"To Urahara Kisuke's," he announced hoarsely.

She looked a bit stunned, staring into nothing before answering. "... Hai."

He turned his back to put his shoes on. However, his mind could not register the tough material in his hands; he still felt the smoothness of her skin and the silk of her hair.

"Ulquiorra-kun? I'm ready," he heard her say from behind him.

He straightened. "Let's go." He opened her door, and peered out of the corner of his eye, having just enough time to catch her lingering, concentrated look on the picture of herself and her brother. As if seeking guidance in her personal tragedy.

\- { - } -

In the box were green, polygonal, egg-shaped objects, made out of something similar to that of a hand grenade. Each wore what looked like little plastic green-and-white striped hats similar to Kisuke's own, but with a closed, loop-like hook protruding from the tops.

Neither Tessai nor Yoruichi were surprised; they have seen the devices before.

Rukia frowned dumbfoundedly as she peered in. Uryuu had a similar expression, but his was more out of disapproval than puzzlement.

Yasutora, meanwhile, gave no reaction while Ichigo scowled.

Grimmjow merely blinked, as he had even less of an idea what the things were used for. Hueco Mundo hadn't needed grenades or similar objects as weaponry. Moreover, his knowledge of Earthian objects was still very limited.

"Take these grenades," Kisuke said. "If something happens with Orihime-chan's spell, namely _that_ one, you'll need to throw one of these to create a quick simulation of Karakura. So she won't damage the real city; only the simulated one."

"... Come again?" Ichigo asked, raising a brow in confusion. " _Grenades_?"

"Why would we need something like that?" Uryuu asked doubtfully. "What—"

"When Matsumoto-san first appeared, I had a feeling she was up to something," Kisuke explained. "She said her mission was to observe the lives of the Resurrected... but that should've only taken a few days, which led me to believe she had something else in mind."

"And knowing Yamamoto," Yoruichi added, "he would let Kurotsuchi sneak in something _else_ in her mission."

Rukia let out a sharp huff of breath. "That's a bold move. And dangerous. If Inoue's heightened abilities are released on Earth, there will be destruction. And, not just people like us, but _everyone_ will be able to see and feel it."

Kisuke's eyes lit up, as if the petite shinigami gave him the perfect cue he needed. He patted one side of the rim of the cardboard box. "And we bet that when Matsumoto-san came over this morning, to walk the Resurrected to school, Orihime-chan's appearance provided her an opportunity."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Matsumoto-san gave her some kind of medicine to help her stay awake at school," Kisuke replied. "Or so she said."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "... Rangiku wouldn't know anything about the medicine here. And Soul Society things work differently."

"Eeeeexactly!" Kisuke exclaimed dramatically, sounding very much like a game show host.

"This can't be a good idea," Uryuu, the one who is always so skeptical of all shinigami, interjected.

"Of course not," Yoruichi piped up. "But we can't scare Inoue with this. At least, for now. One thing leads to—"

"Even now, we have to keep this from Inoue-san?" The Quincy lightly traced his finger over the bottom of his glasses frame, suddenly lost in thought, in what his heart held for her. "She is already getting suspicious. And by now, we are all aware of her dream from last night. It was no coincidence. Either the Shun Shun Rikka or her own mind is getting tired of keeping secrets."

He, Ichigo, Rukia, and Yasutora found out about Orihime's night episode through Rangiku and a slightly more reluctant Tia. It had been a break between class periods, and while Grimmjow had been asked to preoccupy the healer and a dubious Ulquiorra, Rangiku let the aformentioned friends know that her dreams were going to present problems, especially when Tia mentioned the fact that the pins lit up, and not in the soothing way Orihime's healing reiatsu usually did.

"It doesn't help if she's even trying to suppress the dreams themselves," Ichigo pointed out. "I don't blame her, though."

The others nodded in agreement.

It was obvious that Grimmjow didn't know what that part meant. "What the hell happened?" he remarked loudly, catching everyone's attention. "You make it sound like Princesa destroyed the world or something."

The four students only exchanged looks. They didn't even come up with a humorous rebuttal. Kisuke, Yoruichi, and Tessai, also, didn't say anything.

Grimmjow scowled at their silence, and before he could question them again, Kisuke's voice filled the awkward void.

"In any case, we will talk about Orihime-chan later," the shop owner said, his tone rather light for the gloomy subject matter. "I must explain the point of my wonderful Space Saver Grenades!"

Ichigo gritted his teeth, a vein popping out near his temple. "What is this, a TV commercial?"

Kisuke continued on heedlessly, ignoring the orange-haired boy. "I'm rather proud of these, to be honest."

"Because of the technology? Or because they have a likeness to you?"

"Both, of course." With a free hand, he expertly plucked a grenade out of the box and held it out by in-between two fingers. "Now, on with the demonstration!"

Tucking his fan under his arm, Kisuke began.

"Just twist off the top—" He twisted the mini-hat off the grenade and held up each piece in either hand, displaying them for all to see. "—Like so." He smiled a bit, leaving the quizzical group in suspense for a mere second...

... before throwing the grenade down to the ground in front of them.

A loud pop, sounding like that of a giant bubble wrap welt, echoed in all their ears. Greenish-gray smoke rose from where the grenade had been, engulfing Kisuke's audience in the thick, cough-inducing smoke.

After it had cleared a few minutes later, the scientist didn't seem at all surprised when the others appeared unimpressed. After all, it looked like nothing happened.

"... Now what?" Ichigo asked impatiently. "How are—?"

"Make sure, my friends," Kisuke went on grandly, as if he didn't hear bright-haired teen, "that you keep the hat that sets off the grenade; you'll need it."

"He doesn't even listen..." the shinigami grumbled, running an impatient hand through his short head of hair.

"You'll begin to notice that nothing seems to be amiss," the fan-wielding man continued.

"No shit," Grimmjow retorted.

"But appearances can be deceiving!" With that, Kisuke turned to Tessai, giving him a short nod.

The larger, mustached man bowed in response, like he was receiving a silent order, and turned to a random wall. Lifting a hand, he let out a loud grunt of exertion, blasting the wall with a ball of blue fire. It shot through the wall easily, leaving a smoking, burning hole in its wake. Through it, the group could make out a messy, unmade futon with blue covers. The skinny, but tall dresser, which took up half of the small room, had caught the fireball's wrath, also pierced through with no effort, revealing the quickly disappearing daytime outdoors.

While the teenage humans and Rukia looked purely stunned, Grimmjow appeared rather aghast, his knuckles turning white against the edges of the table. "That's my fucking room, you asshat!" he spat viciously.

Kisuke, unaffected by the reaction, held up his occupied hand, to keep the former Sexta from protesting anymore, and possibly, to keep the others from erupting into many questions. "Now," he said, facing the inside of the plastic hat piece toward the others. "You will see that Grimm-kun's room is more-or-less destr—"

"Get to the point," the bedroom's owner growled.

The shop owner simply smiled in return, remaining patient. "Not to worry, my friends," he said, falling back to his spiel mechanically as if reciting a pre-made speech. "It's naught but an illusion. I used the technology behind Fake Karakura as a guide to help me make these, so you may ruin as much as you wish—" There was a small jerk of his foot. The original part of the grenade (miraculously still intact) shot upward, kicked into the air like a hacky-sack. Kisuke caught it easily with the same hand that held the hat. "—As long as this larger piece, like those pillars, is intact."

"So, if it broke," Uryuu reasoned, "then the illusion fades and the world becomes real?"

"Yes," Kisuke said. "And the damage thereafter will actually destroy real parts of Karakura."

"I guess we stomp on it or something to get out of the illusion?" Ichigo asked.

At this, the man actually shook his head. "Not exactly. The illusion will fade, yes, but it won't be controlled. It's like the pillar in Fake Karakura Town collapsing in haphazard ruins rather than being deconstructed neatly with the Research Division's technology. It would create something sloppy; the worlds would be mixed up." He pointed to a black, circular spot on the inside of the tiny hat. A rubber button had been embedded into the design. "That's where this comes in."

He pressed it, hard. The sound of the release of pressured air surrounded them. The atmosphere didn't seem to change, but the holes in the wall and Grimmjow's bedroom vanished into thin air, as if by magic.

"This returns us back to the real Karakura, mess-free!"

"That's pretty... interesting," Rukia commented, blinking down at the deceptively unassuming device. She then turned back to the shop owner. "When will we actually need these, though?"

"All members of the Research Division shared methodologies with each other at one point," Kisuke said with a slight frown, his head tilted downward to heighten the shadows across his eyes. "So, it's not too hard for me to predict what kind of 'medicine' Matsumoto-san offered to our Orihime-chan. My best guess that it was some kind of reiatsu pill.

"If she taps into her true power, whether intentional or not, it would be no good. She could destroy her own hometown— _your_ hometown, and permeate through every plane. We would need an illusory barrier. I only want you all to be prepared."

Tessai suddenly stood, his large figure imposed over the rest of them. Kisuke turned to him, a bit startled, and saw that the Kidou master was looking past the open door and out to the porch where two figures, shadowed by the setting sun behind them, approached.

"Good evening," Kisuke suddenly called, masking the previous discussion with an unassuming smile. As the couple came closer, the shadows glided away, revealing their identities.

"Ulqui-kun, have you brought a lady over for dinner? How nice of you!"

Ulquiorra was not amused. He looked from the shop owner, to Tessai, and to the rest of the group assembled in the dining room. "What is going on?" he asked with narrowed eyes. Behind him, the woman of the hour, Inoue Orihime, stared on, mute and not entirely paying attention.

Kisuke, on the other hand, was irrevocably placid and enthusiastic; he was obviously putting on a farce, but stubbornly ignorant of that fact. "We're going to have a feast!" That guy would just have to earn his and Orihime's way into his secrets.

The eyes of the former Cuatro fell to the box on the table. He glanced back at his guardian. His stare hardened.

Uryuu crossed his arms and craned his neck up at Kisuke. "Well, now what are you going to do, Urahara?" he questioned snobbishly.

"This probably means that he will have to start his prepared speech all over," Yoruichi remarked. She tsked. "He worked so hard on it, too."

Was there a way to hide it anymore? No, but he knew how to play dumb. Orihime wasn't supposed to expect Kurotsuchi's intervention. The element of surprise was supposed to spur her into action with any pretense. And who knew when a real one would showed up? Besides, a real Hollow insinuated less control over Orihime's situation.

"It is very clear that something is going on behind her back," Ulquiorra said. "If you weren't so foolish enough as to make it this obvious, I would not be having this exchange with you."

"Oh-ho, a sharp one, aren't you?"

"Answer."

The venom in Ulquiorra's even voice didn't scare Kisuke in the slightest. He had dealt with far worse.

He smiled innocently and pointed to the box. "You and Orihime-chan should take a grenade each," he said, and went on to give a shortened version of what he had told the others.

Ulquiorra listened diligently enough, but not without looking irritable. Orihime didn't seem to fully understand, but before she could ask questions, the former Cuatro Espada barged in with one of his own.

"Why do we need these?" Ulquiorra asked through suspicious eyes. He picked one of the devices from the box and held it up, examining it with a mistrustful gaze. "No, I see. It is because of Inoue Orihime, is it not?"

"Ulquiorra-kun," the redhead piped up quietly. "Please don't. I don't want everyone to—"

He gave her a pointed, almost deadly look that caught her completely offguard.

Kisuke paused, thinking carefully about what he would say next. He was more or less an honest person. He could either be brutally honest and inadvertently hurtful, or mysterious in his words, leaving in blanks and gaps for others to fill in on his or her own, but he didn't lie. And he wasn't going to start doing so now.

"Well, Orihime-chan won't quite understand this," the hat-wearing man finally began, eyeing straight-faced at Ulquiorra, "but she's rather... formidable."

Orihime, of course, was the quickest to protest. "Formidable? But I can't even do anything!" At seeing her friends' eyes avert soundlessly, her expression slackened. "I really can't! My—" There was a small pause, as if second-guessing herself. "... My fairies wouldn't let me..." Her voice drifted off, purposely leaving out something. This much Kisuke was able to deduce from observation.

"We know," Kisuke replied gently. At her surprised face, he smiled. "I don't want to overwhelm you with the technicalities, but please know that all the things we do for you aren't always because you deem yourself weak to the others."

She raised her head with a bit of curious hope. Next to her, Ulquiorra merely raised an eyebrow.

Kisuke glanced quickly at Tessai, and then at Yoruichi, as if for approval to go on. He finally settled his shadowed eyes on the healer again, his expression more serious. "I should now know better than anyone," he elaborated, "that you aren't to be reckoned with, whether your actions had been on purpose or not. Your Shun Shun Rikka fairies had their reasons for suppressing them, but know that it's only out of _love and respect_."

Ulquiorra wasn't satisfied. He didn't seem to comprehend that particular manner of love and respect. "Then why—"

Kisuke held up a hand, silencing the skeptical Resurrected. "That being said," he continued, "Orihime-chan, have you talked to Matsumoto-san today?"

She blinked at the abrupt change of subject. "Y-Yes, why?"

Ulquiorra spoke up before Kisuke had the chance to, speeding the confrontation along. "If you are referring to the drug Matsumoto Rangiku enforced upon this woman this morning, then yes, they have conversed."

"E-Eh?" Orihime squeaked, waving her hands in front of her frantically to erase the bluntness of his words. "She didn't force anything! I took it on my own!"

He scowled at her. "Do not defend that shinigami. She is following repulsive orders sent by Yamamoto Genryuusai without thinking of the consequences. I do not doubt that she understood the side-effects."

The hat-wearing man wasn't surprised that, without concrete answers, the green-eyed one had little patience. Unlike Ulquiorra, the shop owner and creator of the research department in Soul Society was not a straightforward person. He preferred if the people he taught and befriended figured things out for themselves with only teeny-tiny push rather than the brutal shove the ex-Arrancar was accustomed to giving.

"Oh, so you know about the pill, Ulqui-kun," Kisuke said.

"It caused her reiatsu to... erupt," Ulquiorra described, and went on to explain what happened; every relevant detail. Although he did not go into the specifics of _why_ he was at her apartment in the first place, Kisuke could tell that Orihime was embarrassed about it, anyway. Especially when...

"—The reiatsu went back to normal when she came to me, despite my request for her to stay away, and held on to me," Ulquiorra said plainly. "I suppose I give her a comforting effect."

There was a long silence. Ulquiorra as a comforting presence? Those two _hugging_ , at that?

"... Really?" Ichigo questioned dumbly.

Orihime, red as a tomato, buried her face in her hands and retreated behind Ulquiorra.

\- { - } -

Finally, the meeting ended, and everyone was back on their feet. The heavy, still bewildering subject matter was still on everyone's mind, especially Orihime's and Ulquiorra's, but it had been a long day. It was time for something mood-enlightening. Hell, it was time for dinner and sleep.

Grimmjow cracked his knuckles and grinned to himself. It was time to look for Ichigo. He was itching to duel him, but Ichigo had the advantage of having a real zanpakutou while Grimmjow didn't. They should both use _bouken_ , or better yet, they should both use real swords. He briefly wondered if there was some rule about the Resurrected not being allowed to use real weapons...

Just within range of earshot, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I will walk you back, Onna."

Grimmjow turned, suddenly intrigued. Not too far from him, the two potential lovebirds, Ulquiorra and Orihime, stood face-to-face. Ichigo and Rukia were with them, waiting on the healer.

Grimmjow's gut suddenly sizzled. The shinigami human looked like he was about to take his leave with both girls. Grimmjow wasn't going to let that happen.

He marched right over to the group, but his presence didn't seem to be noticed, even though he stood at least a head taller than the rest of them.

"No! I can take care of myself!" Orihime was saying to Ulquiorra insistently, waving her hands in front of her. "I mean, you're already home..."

"Then stay for dinner."

"No, it's okay..."

He scowled doubtfully, about to argue, but Ichigo beat him to the punch.

"She'll be fine. I mean, she's walked home alone before you showed up in the living world. It'll be no different today." His words were met with a glare from Ulquiorra. "Okay, fine, that time with the Hollow was one of those weird, rare moments, but nine times out of ten..." He looked at Rukia for help.

"We live close to Inoue," she spoke up, taking over for Ichigo, "so we'll be with her most of the way if it makes you feel any better."

"You say 'we' as if you actually lived at my place," the orange-haired teen remarked, rolling his eyes.

Rukia smiled mischievously.

"See, Ulquiorra-kun?" Orihime said, giving the black-haired Resurrected a reassuring curve of her lips. "I'll be okay. I don't always need you there."

Ulquiorra suddenly looked away from her, as if something in her words stung him. "As you wish," he muttered indifferently. He still remained, of course, unconvinced.

Grimmjow spied his housemate suspiciously out of the corner of his eye.

She didn't seem completely satisfied with Ulquiorra's answer, either, judging by her subdued smile, but she left, anyway, stopping before the door to speak with Kisuke in a hushed voice.

Ichigo and Rukia followed her. No—they went ahead of her and strolled outside.

 _Oh_ hell _no!_ Grimmjow seethed. He was about to give the orange-haired punk a piece of his mind when Ulquiorra clamped a hand on his shoulder. A threatening, persistent hand.

"You know what she did that caused such a fuss," he said, not questioning, nor curious. He said it as if he already knew. "I want to assume that you do."

Trying not to take his indignation out on him, Grimmjow clenched his teeth together instead and feigned a noncommital shrug.

"Not my place to say anything. Bother Urahara. I have shit to take care of."

Ulquiorra glowered at him. "I do not understand. You are not usually one to follow authority or keep promises."

 _And you're not usually one to care,_ the blue-haired male wanted to shoot back, but he didn't feel like arguing with him. He just wanted to pretend to slice Ichigo's head off with a wooden sword.

"Why would you know and not me?"

 _'Cause my involvement was by accident. And now there's no way out this mess._ But Grimmjow didn't disclose that much out loud.

"You mentioned Kuchiki Rukia before," Ulquiorra continued to probe. "Did she tell you willingly? Is there a reason for her to do so?"

Too many questions, even for Ulquiorra. Grimmjow had much better things to do than to hear him fret over Orihime, even if he wasn't aware of it. "God, shut up!" Grimmjow finally snapped. He glared at him. "You're whipped, you know that! Fuckin' _whipped_!"

Clearly, Ulquiorra had never heard that term before. "What are you talking about?"

Grimmjow almost felt sorry for his leaner classmate. Despite the harsh attitude he always had with others, Ulquiorra, in actuality, was confused emotionally. He adapted well to school; he learned the curriculum subjects freakishly fast, able to catch on to things like algebra at an ingenious speed. He comprehended and retained information upon first reading, and had abnormally good memory. But when it came to matters of the heart—to Orihime, specifically—Grimmjow wagered that he did things without understanding the reasons behind them. Here, he felt things he had never felt before in Hueco Mundo.

"Look," the blue-eyed man sighed. "Did you even notice how much time you spend with La Princesa? How much you've done for her? Nearly every single day?"

There was a fishy pause before he responded. "That does not matter. I see you and the others every day..." The awkward trail-off of his words indicated that he was unsure.

Ulquiorra, unsure? What a laugh. If they had still been Arrancars, a hesitant Ulquiorra would only appear in Grimmjow's wildest, most screwed up dreams. But this was real, and approximately a month after the end of the Winter War on Earth. The people around them were humans, or living _as_ humans. No Las Noches, no Aizen Sousuke, and no expanse of dreary desert.

Ulquiorra was more clueless than ever; more than he had ever been in his entire existence. Grimmjow could clearly pick out the confusion in his large green eyes. He didn't need Tia to do the evident observation for him.

Was it downright weird? For Grimmjow, of course it was, but a lovestruck Ulquiorra was much better than a "perfect soldier" Ulquiorra. Easier to deal with, and on top of that, quite hilarious.

Offering Ulquiorra a sly smile, he playfully elbowed his more serious housemate, glancing over at Orihime meaningfully. "You're in love with her, aren't ya?" he nudged in a quiet voice. "Eh, Batshit?"

Ulquiorra wasn't the joking type. He never took the blue-haired man's digs in stride, and Grimmjow expected it wouldn't be any different now.

He could imagine his response: _"No. That's a foolish, baseless assumption."_

"... I was the one who kidnapped her."

Grimmjow's light blue eyes flitted to Ulquiorra's. For someone who was always so direct, it was a pretty indirect answer.

Ulquiorra turned from him to Orihime, who was talking about something somber with Kisuke. He had a far away, but confounded look on that frowning face. It was like he didn't fully understand his own feelings, but wasn't about to dismiss Grimmjow's conjectures.

 _And that,_ Grimmjow thought with a secretive smirk, _is pretty fucking funny_. "But you're in love with her."

Ulquiorra didn't say anything. Under the inquisitive stare, did he really know the concept of love, or at least, had an inkling of comprehension of it? Did he just not trust him with the truth? Or was he really that unaware?

And finally... "Grimmjow."

Grimmjow flashed a toothy grin. "What?"

A second later, he found himself curled into a ball on the ground, the tatami mat scratchy against his skin (and those still-tender catscratches) and the wind painfully knocked out of him.

"THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!" he yelled when he managed to get back his breath.

Ulquiorra made no outward expression. "You will refer to me by my name or as Shihaku Uruki," he said with dangerous ease. "Nothing else." With that, he sauntered toward Orihime, who had just parted from Kisuke.

If his ego hadn't been bruised from Ulquiorra's sneak attack, Grimmjow would have laughed at the fact that his green-eyed housemate changed the subject instead of answering.

\- { - } -

_"... It was all real, wasn't it? Right, Urahara-san?"_

_Despite the secretive, intimidating look in his eyes, the shop owner gave her an honest, but sorrowful smile. Without answering her question, he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder._

. .

It hadn't been much of a response, but Orihime was now less confused. She still didn't know the entire story, but she now knew why she had those dreams.

She bit her lip, fighting tears. What had she done? Why wouldn't her mind let her rest? Why did her reiatsu try to lash out at Ulquiorra?

_Ulquiorra-kun..._

Orihime suddenly couldn't breathe. The aching in her chest was too strong, invisible fingers squeezing the air out of her lungs, with nails sharp enough to pierce them.

Looking up at him in her apartment, at the face who worshipped her and saw her as a god, she had realized how much he meant to her. The expression on his countenance was something she had never seen until that afternoon, and it alone was better than any lifetime she could've had with Kurosaki Ichigo.

Also, in that moment, she realized something. And it terrified her.

She was in love with Ulquiorra.

It was different from having feelings for Ichigo. _He_ had been a dream, a hero in her fantasies, whose personality she might have fabricated partially in her reverie-filled head. She had fantasized about each of the five lifetimes with him, obsessed with the hunt of his unattainable heart. But in the end, that had been all that she longed for.

On the other hand, there was something very grounded and _real_ when it came to Ulquiorra; so much that it was scary. She had feelings for him, the person; not the chase. There was no fluffy, daydreaming here. The longing was sharp, hotly puncturing her heart.

She honestly didn't know how he felt about her. All his talk of duty made her believe that she was no more than an idol of worship. Or worse, his new Aizen Sousuke. Was she only part of the atonement he silently—but in a way, frenzily—sought.

Sure, he knew how to feel, but did he even know how to fall in love? Namely, with her? Deep in his eyes, she saw sincerity, but she wasn't sure if she saw love. _Could_ there be love in those emerald greens? Or would he only get such sacred emotions mixed up with the things he was used to?

"—talk to you."

She glanced up, her cheeks automatically burning at the familiar presence in front of her. "W-What?" she stuttered. She hated that the awareness of her feelings was making her awkward.

He motioned with his chin toward the porch. "I want to speak with you."

She turned to the doorway, as if she had been unaware of it being there before. "About what?" she questioned faintly. "Can't we just wait until tom—"

"If you want to leave that fast, I will be brief," he interrupted, with a spark of hurt audible only to her ears.

She pursed her lips together. She didn't mean for her words to come out that hurriedly, nor that insensitively.

Orihime wordlessly followed him outside, where Ichigo and Rukia were already in front of the property, waiting. Their teasing arguments with each other were loud enough for them to hear. The two shinigami had their backs to them, though, and were at out of range for normal speaking levels. Thus, they didn't seem to notice her and Ulquiorra's presence.

Her once-captor wasted no time when they stood in front of the steps. Apparently, he wasn't kidding when he promised to be brief.

To her surprise, and quite randomly, Ulquiorra dropped to one knee, majestically bowing his head before her.

Her heart skipped a beat. She had no time to force down the hot blush that seemed to instantly sneak up her face.

She almost imagined the scenario as a marriage proposal.

"I want to apologize for this afternoon," he muttered, his eyes somewhere on her feet (which she felt self-conscious about now).

"Apologize?" she repeated incredulously. "But Ulquiorra-kun, I should be the one to apologize for..." Her gaze shifted away for a second before returning it to him. "... you know."

"Onna—"

"Besides, you're not the apologizing type," she went on, more cheerfuly. "You're like a tough lion that doesn't look back on regrets and mistakes and marches up that cliff toward glory!"

He tilted his head upward. "... What? Onn—"

"No," she rambled on, ignoring his interjections. "Murciélago means bat, so I guess... you're like a vampire? Are they the strong and silent type? I guess that would make Sado-kun one, t—"

"Inoue _._ "

Ulquiorra reached out and grabbed her by the wrists, like he was going to steady her, even though she was already standing frozen. Her stifled gasp was caught in her throat, and only after realizing it seconds later did she let her breath draw out in a long, quiet sigh.

_He called me by my name..._

"You like talking about these odd things, don't you?" He managed a slight smirk, which she declared in secret—almost possessively—was reserved for her alone.

"I'm okay," she voiced, sounding meeker than intended. She barely heard herself over her erratically hammering heart.

Now that she was staring at him, the image of his caressing hand against her face earlier that afternoon refused to leave. The need for that sensation tickled her skin.

Solely focused on him, the rest of her background seemed to melt away, leaving only the man before her and his entrancing green eyes.

The yearn for him was suffocating her; she needed to leave. At this point, she couldn't stay just friends with him. She wanted something more.

"I have to go," she heard herself say a second later.

 _Is friendship enough?_ She thought absently.

_Or am I only meant to be a lonely god who could hurt him again?  
_

A cold introspection suddenly stabbed itself into her gut like an icicle. If it had been someone else who had saved him, Tia, and Grimmjow, would he still have had acted similarly toward her? Would he have had acknowledged her at all? Would they have had this close bond?

"I see," he replied with an inquisitive brow.

And yet, his eyes told her something else, something genuine she couldn't put a finger to. It confused her and she hated it. Their relationship was now suspended precariously in some nondescriptive area beyond friendship. Love was somewhere on the other end, but she didn't know how far, nor if it had a solid foundation.

Should she suffer by holding her heart back? Should she force down the excruciating lump building in her throat?

"Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia are calling you," Ulquiorra told her, his words pooling into her wandering mind. "I imagine that they—"

His words were cut off when he saw her kneel down swiftly in front of him. Her ash-colored eyes briefly met his questioning ones before she practically fell into his arms.

Sometimes, she really couldn't help herself.

The hand on the small of her back puzzledly accepted her gesture. "Onn—Inoue..."

Their bodies fit against each other perfectly. Blissfully.

And incomprehensibly, it felt right.

Yet she remained afraid with a fearful kind of pain. It was crippling and so, so hard to ignore.

_Oniisan, what do I do?_

"Good night," she said softly, and left his embrace fast.

Maybe if she distanced herself, it wouldn't hurt so badly.

 _Besides,_ she thought somberly, looking down at her empty hand as if it contained something awestriking but unwanted; her power within. _I should be distracted by other things._

Even though, it was hard for her to tell which made her feel worse. 


	8. Chasing Pavements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has to convince himself that it's enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Vulnerable" by Roxette; "Chasing Pavements" by Adele; "Mikazuki" by Ayaka

_\- { spring rains } -_

_Rangiku lounged on the sofa in her captain's office, her feet up as she rested her eyes from another round of sake. It was a habit of hers. It was mid-afternoon when her lips first touched the rim of the bottle, and now it was sometime after dinner, and there she was on her way to dreamland._

_Distantly, she heard the door open and close, followed by a familiar irritated tsk. Without opening her eyes, Rangiku called out, "Evening, Hitsugaya-taichou~"_

_"Great, you're drunk," Toushiro grunted, trudging across the room to where she assumed was his desk. "Just the condition I want you in when I need to talk to you."_

_Rangiku opened her eyes and turned over, propping her chin up on her palm to face the young captain. "Oh? Something like that won't make me any less attentive."_

_Toushiro didn't argue. In fact, he didn't look like he was in the mood to snap at her. "Fine," he said curtly. He pointed to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit."_

_"You're rude today," she scoffed lightly, but complied without protest. As soon as her rear hit the cushion of the chair, he began to speak._

_"I need you to go to the living world," he stated tonelessly._

_Rangiku blinked. What was so bad about that? Toushiro made it sound like he wanted her to march into Hueco Mundo. "The living world?" she repeated. "I love the living world!"_

_"Let me finish," he bit at her, and continued. "Yamamoto-soutaichou and Kurotsuchi originally assigned me something I think you would do a better job with." From the sleeve of his robe, the white-haired male took out an envelope, which had already been opened, and held it out for her to take. "Here are the objectives, but I'll summarize for you."_

_Rangiku, raising an eyebrow curiously, nodded and took it, but didn't open it._

_"You need to go down and retrieve Inoue," he said. "But you can't exactly tell her why. That's the hard part. It may take some time, but she knows you better than she knows me."_

_"But you're going to tell_ me _why, right?" Rangiku suddenly felt sobered up, realizing that this mission was assigned on behalf of Mayuri, the captain of the Twelfth Squad and leader of the researching department. While his intentions in the long run were usually beneficial, his methods were, a lot of the time, cause for ethical concerns._

_"I said let me finish, Matsumoto," Toushiro reprimanded her again. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, you're also going to check up on the Resurrected, to see how they're doing, but that's mostly a front. You're supposed to be more concerned with observing Inoue's abilities ever since she absorbed the Hougyoku's powers."_

_"How am I going to do that?" she asked, frowning doubtfully. She recalled the fairies wanting to create a mental blockade to keep Orihime from using anything, as her spells may have been contaminated with a mutant form of the Hougyoku's powers._

_Toushiro lifted a fisted hand, laid it across the desk, and opened it palm up. Inside was a small, cylindrical container. "Kurotsuchi designed a pill to counteract the blockade. I'm not familiar with the technology, but he probably knows what he's talking about."_

_Rangiku tentatively took the container out of his hand. "And so, I...?"_

_"Give one to her while you're down there," he finished for her._

_She paused, unsure. "... I don't know if I trust Kurotsuchi-taichou."_

_"None of us do, but with the dimensional barriers thinning out, we have no choice. Too many Hollows are coming into Soul Society."_

_Rangiku rose from her seat, looking like she was going to go along with the assignment, but her knitted eyebrows said otherwise. "Why can't you do this, again? You have more authority than I do, as captain. She would go along with you if—"_

_"That's the thing, Matsumoto. Since I do have more authority, I would perceived to be more of a_ threat _to Kurosaki and the others. And since the masking plan is to observe the Resurrected, it would be fishy if a captain was assigned to do something simple like that."_

_She frowned at him. "How strategic."_

_He made a disapproving tsk sound. "I think of it more along the lines of common sense." He stood up and crossed his arms. "Look, no one really likes Kurotsuchi, and at times, Yamamoto-soutaichou, but you're not doing this for them alone. You're doing this for the safety of Soul Society."_

_Just then, a shock of foreign energy jolted through both of them._

_Hollows had appeared near Seireitei._

_Toushiro's already stern expression hardened. "I'll take care of this," he said wearily. "You go on assignment."_

_"But—"_

_"Moreover," Toushiro cut in, getting up from his chair to stand by the window. He planned on exiting that way. "I don't want to face the Espada that almost killed me." He turned around to open the window._

_Rangiku sighed. She knew him well to know that he had his back to her because he saw his confession as weakness. Full of stubborn pride, but nonetheless, a weakness that put a dent in his usually proficient attitude._

_Before she could get a word in, Toushiro disappeared out of his window in a flash, dashing onto the rooftops with lightning-fast speed._

_The strawberry blonde was left confused and somewhat disoriented. An odd situation had been shoved onto her, and she wasn't left any room to protest, much less, enough time to let it all register into her head._

_Rangiku hadn't been in Hueco Mundo during that time, but she knew the story so well that she might as well have been part of it; it was often repeated and elaborated on during meetings and within conversations._

_It won't be easy for Orihime to come back to Soul Society for the task they needed; not with Ichigo's group in the way, or with Orihime's mental state. At least, that was what Rangiku thought._

_Moreover, she just didn't want to do it. But no matter how much her heart, her mind, and her gut wanted to fight the mission forced on her, she was alone. Who else would want this? Who else would was friendly enough with Orihime to be successful?_

I guess there's nothing else but to be professional... _she thought to herself, and left the office._

\- { - } -

The days were growing warmer. The appearance of the sun was no longer sporadic, but constant. The days became longer and the trees began to grow leaves again.

It was March, according to the humans. The season of spring was upon them all.

Gradually, the three Arrancars' grasp of the human world got better. They could almost pass for true humans. They learned fast, but their questions and curiosity of their environment never ceased. For example...

"What the fuck is graduation?" Grimmjow asked no one in particular, watching as some third-year students passed by usual group, who were all eating lunch outside. The blue-haired troublemaker had caught bits and pieces of the students' conversation, the word sticking out in his mind.

The four real humans—his former enemies—glanced at each other before replying, but Ulquiorra decided not to pay attention to the answer. He was distracted by something else. _Someone_ else, in fact. Even though the little woman he had so often spoken to and silently gazed at was sitting only foot or so away, she hardly paid attention to him. She was avoiding him for some reason, and it bothered him a lot more than it should have. It was inconceivably irritating.

He told himself that they needed space from each other; they spent far too much time in each others' company. Her behavior has only been this way for a week and a half or so. However, Orihime's sudden distance was uncalled for.

Ulquiorra didn't understand what was _wrong_.

Just when he thought his friendship with Orihime escalated, everything suddenly started to go backward. No, not even that. Everything had just _stopped_. Their relationship had taken a few steps forward, but then, one random day, leaped a few yards backward.

Ulquiorra stared down at his boxed lunch, which had hardly been touched.

_Human bonds are ridiculous._

It was ridiculous how she stayed on his mind even when she wasn't present. It was also foolish of him to dislike when she smiled these days, especially when his reason was that...

_... she smiled without me._

"Hey, Batshitfucker," Grimmjow said from out of nowhere.

Ulquiorra stiffened at the name, and without turning, shifted his eyes to his housemate. "What?" he responded curtly.

His peripheral vision met with a long pair of male legs. He found that he was still sitting on the grass. Everyone had gone back inside, minus Grimmjow, of course.

"Are ya gonna just sit there or are ya comin' back in?" Grimmjow asked, with an arched eyebrow. "Lunch is ov―the hell? You didn't even finish it!"

"It wasn't appetizing."

"Are you kidding me?"

Ulquiorra glared at him, and angrily held out the rest of his bentou, which had been prepared meticulously by Tessai that morning. "Have it."

"What the―? Do you _ever_ listen to me? I said class is about to―" Fed up, Grimmjow just sighed instead, and grabbed it. Being on the receiving end of Ulquiorra's irritation was probably not something he felt like dealing with.

"I guess I wouldn't mind a snack after school..."

. .

Orihime was not in her classroom after school that day.

The resulting emotion? He learned it as disappointment. It was strange how human emotion stretched from its ultra highs to its incredible lows; how a heart squeezed and wrenched in pain, and on the other end, swelled with longing. It was as if the heart itself was some kind of―what was the word Sado Yasutora had used when Ulquiorra tried to describe it? An accordian? What was an accordian?

In the locker area, Ulquiorra gathered his belongings to take home. There, he took his speculation one step further.

_This emptiness... I suppose this is what human loneliness feels like._

How idiotic of him.

"Hey, Shihaku."

Ulquiorra shut his locker and turned. Behind him stood a girl with a waifish, but strong build. She had short, dark hair. He has seen her before. And he was sure that Orihime, in one of her idle rambles, had mentioned this particular person.

Arisawa Tatsuki.

Before he could question her approach, she jutted a hand out. Her face was hard with deliberation, her eyes sparkling with determination.

A handshake? One of truce? Was she there on behalf of Orihime? Why didn't the woman come to him herself if that was the case?

"Stop staring at my hand and accept the peace offering," she said brusquely, and grabbed his hand to do the gesture for the both of them. His own hand was limp and unreactive with confusion, but he didn't pull away.

"Where is she?" he asked her plainly.

Tatsuki made a face at him and practically threw his hand back to his side. "Orihime? She's at the Handicrafts Club with Ishida. What, you didn't know that?" She hitched a thumb lazily down the hallway. "It's in the 1-E classroom, around the corner. You can check it out for yourself. I was just with her."

An ill feeling coursed through him. "Is that so?"

Tatsuki's expression relaxed a bit as she noticed something off about him. "What's the matter with you?" She shoved him in one direction away from the lockers. "Go! After I finally accept your stupid ass, you're just gonna stand there and look depressed? What the hell?"

"She requests space," an annoyed Ulquiorra finally told her, after regaining his balance.

"She said that?"

"I do not wish to smother her with my constant presence."

"You talk weird," Tatsuki said, blinking in interest. "Like a robot." She waved her hand casually, as if dismissing her own statement. "But really, other than that, you seem more human than I thought," the girl said, a tough touch underneath her mild words.

_The human description again._

He must have looked doubtful, because she raised an eyebrow and replied with, "Look, pal. I don't know what the hell your upbringing is to make you so unemotional, but I can tell that you care about Orihime almost as much as I do." She frowned a bit.

He was slightly taken aback. "That is... something you can see?"

Her eyes fell to the tiled floor. "I've watched you a bit; watched you with her. I always saw something... deep in your eyes. I can't really explain it. I think you feel more than you say."

"And her?" he couldn't help but wonder aloud.

This girl had been Orihime's best friend. She must have known the redhead inside and out; she must have been her ardent protector before even Ichigo gained his abilities as a shinigami. She would know this much.

Tatsuki shrugged noncommittally. "She's never had a boyfriend before—"

"That is not what I asked."

She shot a hawk-like leer at him. "That's because you didn't let me finish. What I meant was, she probably doesn't understand her feelings anymore than you do. Take that however you want." She looked down at her watch. "I have to get to the dojo." With a hasty parting wave, she left.

Ulquiorra stared after her briefly before turning back to the hallway. He didn't know how to take Tatsuki's advice.

In fact, he didn't know anything at all.

\- { - } -

Orihime glanced down at the bandage on her thumb and pouted as she exited the classroom with Uryuu. It had been a long while since she did any sewing. Her most recent attempt during Handicrafts Club resulted in some finger-pricking.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the Quincy half-smiling down at her. "You'll be able to get back into it," he reassured her. "Just keep coming to the meetings."

She smiled in embarrassment. "Yeah, well..." She was about to make another club-related remark when she saw that Uryuu suddenly stopped, his eyes focused on something down the hallway.

A figure stood against the wall, waiting with aloof grace, with his hands in his pockets and his gaze downward. His mop of dark hair hid his expression from view.

_Ulquiorra-kun..._

"Well," Uryuu said quietly, his mood shifting to something slightly more awkward, "I guess we part here."

"W-we don't have to," Orihime stuttered helplessly.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Inoue," interjected a sharp baritone voice.

She jumped. Ulquiorra was quickly approaching them. Orihime pretended not to notice the ex-Arrancar casting a quick glare in Uryuu's direction before addressing her again. "You," he said tersely. "Let's go."

"Rather rude, don't you think?" the Quincy broke in warily, a finger against the bridge of his glasses. "Is this why you hesitated, Inoue-san? His brash attitude has never bothered you before."

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious. "Hesitated?"

Orihime wished she could blend into the ground. Ulquiorra looked betrayed, while Uryuu already felt quite out of the loop, and it felt like both were putting her on the spot. She didn't blame either of them. It wasn't like she told anyone what she was feeling... that she was scared of her feelings for Ulquiorra, and had been avoiding him for the past week or so.

"I will take her home," Ulquiorra spoke up evenly when she ultimately didn't respond.

Uryuu frowned. "Is that okay with you, Inoue-san?" His eyes went from her gray pools to his former enemy's green, not understanding the situation between them.

In the end, however, she didn't want him to think that anything was wrong. "No, it's okay!" she insisted, forcing a merry smile. "You go home, Ishida-kun."

Uryuu nodded hesitantly. He didn't seem quite trusting of Ulquiorra (nor even Orihime, at the moment), but backed off, anyway. "I'll see you in class, then," he said, and with a short goodbye, left the two alone.

Now that the Quincy had left, Ulquiorra seemed to be in a noticeably better mood. Even his watchfulness of her earlier was forgotten. What kind of effect did she have on him, anyway?

"Let's go."

"N-no... I..." Her voice faltered.

"You just said—"

"I... want to be alone," she explained, looking up at him with an apologetic smile. "You don't have to walk me anymore if you don't want to."

"But I do," he protested calmly, as if she had told him the silliest thing in the world. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing..." she replied weakly. She said this much; now what? She couldn't argue her way out of a paper bag, nor could she force herself to even look away from his heartbreakingly beautiful eyes. Orihime faked a smile. "You're so serious, Ulquiorra-kun. I'm just—"

Slender fingers suddenly seized her arm. She gulped.

His eyes fell to her lips. "Why did you smile like that?" he asked her quietly.

"S-smile like what?"

"I did not feel that smile," he explained, unable to formulate a better description. "It was not in your eyes. It usually is."

Orihime couldn't answer. Without thinking, she reached up and pressed her palm against his gripping hand. He automatically loosened her, his hand dropping to his side.

"Inoue," he went on, glaring at her silence. "Did Matsumoto Rangiku say something to you? Or Kurosaki Ichigo?"

She almost laughed, even in the somber situation. Ulquiorra's aggressive curiosity was still intact, even as a "fake" human. She shook her head and shied away from him. "No, Ulquiorra-kun," she finally spoke up. "I'm only tired."

"Then I can..." his voice trailed off his gaze lowering. He didn't seem to know what to say, either. He looked dumbfounded, confused by his own confusion.

Orihime took a step backward. "I'll see you at school—"

Her words were interrupted by the sudden rumble of thunder outside. Automatically, her pools of gray flickered to the window. The clouds were low and gray, darkening the skies.

"It is about to rain," Ulquiorra spoke up matter-of-factly. Prepared, he reached into his bookbag and pulled out an umbrella.

She paled, silently kicking herself for not remembering her own. Now this was the part where he would insist on sharing it with her.

. .

The walk to her apartment was soundless except for the rain. Every now and then, his arm would brush against hers for a warm, tingling second. Every time it happened, she tensed, her heart almost skipping a beat.

It wasn't until they were in front of the stairs when Ulquiorra broke the gap of silence she usually filled.

"Inoue," he started.

She ducked her head, but even without facing him, she could practically feel his eyes roam her stiffened figure. She couldn't tell if she liked or resented the attention, but either way, she couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine.

"You seem distant as of late," he continued carefully, as if the notion was unfamiliar to him. "Why?"

_Because I'm scared..._

"Eh?" she answered, feigning cheeriness. "I'm not trying to be, Ulquiorra-kun."

"At this point in our relationship, what do you gain by continuing to lie to me?" he countered. He didn't _sound_ angry; it seemed more like he was fed up.

They have had this kind of conversation before, haven't they?

Avoiding the question, Orihime rushed up the stairs (with him, unfortunately for her, on her heels).

That word, _relationship..._

She didn't know what he meant by it, or if he would ever could understand the different meanings of it—or at least, the different meanings perceived by _her_.

Namely, the one definition of it she wanted from him.

After pushing the door open, she began to go in—intending to do so by herself—but his arm shot out to block her.

She stared at it, unsure of what to do.

And suddenly, she felt the knee-weakening murmur of his deep voice near her ear.

"Let me fix whatever is wrong."

For the first time, she felt a gentle inflection in his tone; rare expressiveness. She found her eyes drifting to the center of his chest. With the man so close, the breath of his words still lingering against a sensitive area by her ear, she had to fight the weird urge to kiss him where that Hollow hole used to be.

She closed her eyes briefly.

Against her better judgment, she let him in.

\- { - } -

A certain lieutenant back in Soul Society stood on the rooftop of a building in Seireitei, having just finished her fight with a few lower leveled Hollows.

The invasion wasn't getting out of hand as of yet, but it was more irritating than the shinigami could bear. If it weren't for the weakening barriers, allowing easier access for the Hollows to appear in Soul Society, more business could have been tended to. But instead, a lot of time was spent doing pest control for the sake of the civilian residents, as well as the non-combatant population within the Court itself.

She sheathed her zanpakutou. As she did so, felt the wind of a flashstep from behind. She recognized the presence immediately, the powerful reiatsu bearing down on her with command.

"It's time, wouldn't you agree?" drawled her captain, in a creepily playful voice. "Matsumoto certainly isn't going anywhere with her share. Let's speed things along, hm?"

"..." Her face did not reveal any reaction.

"Hop to it," he went on in a drastically different tone, one full of warning, "or else."

"Yes, sir."

\- { - } -

The rain was getting heavier by the second. Ulquiorra found it to be an interesting phenomenon—this need for water to sustain the ground beneath them. It had never rained in Hueco Mundo. The desert-like world didn't need much to carry on its existence.

What also intrigued Ulquiorra was the humans' need to protect their bodies from the falling waterdrops; how susceptible to sickness they were. Ulquiorra wasn't sure if sickness applied to him in the gigai, but walking around in wet clothing wasn't very pleasant. He guessed it was a relief that his idiot guardian had given him an old umbrella—"just in case."

The apartment was dark; the gloomy weather outside made it hard for him to clearly see her face, but neither he nor Orihime fumbled for the light.

_"Let me fix whatever is wrong."_

He didn't know where those words had come from. He had acted purely on emotion, an unusual feat. Was it regrettable? It was too early for him to tell.

Orihime went to the window. She looked out at the gray skies, at the rain pouring outside. She seemed to find solace in the noise.

_Humans are so helpless._

But it wasn't her he was referring to. As Espada, he could have gotten his way with force and his power. But how could he turn things around as he was now? He has gone nowhere with Orihime; she was still avoidant and secretive.

Quietly, as not to disturb her, he approached from behind. No... she had already sensed him; she was visibly bracing herself for some reason.

On impulse, he reached toward her neck, past her curtain of straight orange-red hair, to see if goosebumps had formed on her smooth flesh. He really didn't have a reason to touch her; he just had the need to.

She flinched. The warmth of his hand must have been a surprise against her cold skin. Orihime craned her neck and then turned, his hand gingerly sliding across her throat as she did, until it rested somewhere on the side of her neck.

Orihime looked up at him with questioning gray eyes when his thumb traveled along her jawline.

She opened her mouth, but seemed to be at a loss for words.

Was this when he was supposed to say something to her? He suddenly forgot.

In turn, Orihime lifted a hand hesitantly, as if daring herself to make movement. Absently, a gentle finger traced over one of the tear-like scars.

Unknowingly, he hitched a breath at the feathery touch. Without realizing, the hand he had on her neck caught hers in mid-caress. Instinctively, his fingers began to intertwine with hers, his palm resting against the back of her smaller hand.

_This feels... strangely blissful._

He didn't know what this was; what they were, because it wasn't just friendship.

That wasn't the kind of relationship he wanted to "fix." This bond was something much more intricate. Didn't he seek her company because he wanted to protect her? To return to her what he had taken from her in Hueco Mundo? Wasn't it only because he was indebted to her?

No, it wasn't about that anymore. Grimmjow had been right. It pained him to to think that, but it was true. This truth was now sinking in slowly, but with so much force that for a second, he stopped breathing.

Put simply, he had fallen for her.

Now what? What was he supposed to do?

Orihime's face suddenly turned redder than he had ever seen it. She pulled her hand away quickly, as if his touch burned. "S-Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly.

Ulquiorra looked from her face to his now lonely hand. Once upon a time, he had been good at reading Orihime's feelings and thoughts, but this wasn't one of those moments. Never had he been so confused by someone until now.

"So, um, want some onigiri?" she asked meekly, pointing to her rice cooker. "I can fill it with taro and sriracha sauce." She turned on a light, brightening the room. It somehow felt unwelcome.

"That sounds disgusting," he barked, his tone coming out more testy than he intended, but everything about her just _didn't make sense_. He hated it.

But wasn't love a senseless chance at a consummated companionship?

"Ulquiorra-kun, please," Orihime said all of a sudden, her voice low but firm. "Just forget it."

"Forget what?" he asked her, although he was very much aware of what she was talking about. He just wanted to hear it from her.

"..."

" _What_ , _Woman_?" he challenged sharply.

She furrowed a brow. "Ulquiorra-kun," she breathed haltingly, "you... only feel a certain way toward me because I saved you... because you held up that code of honor."

_"You still treat me like a charge your Aizen-sama left you."_

His hand rose to cover the abrupt twinge in his chest.

 _That isn't true; not true at all_ , he wanted to drill into her head, but his mouth suddenly felt dry. But finally, after gaining a bit of composure, he asked her quietly, "Is that what you feel it is?"

Barely looking at him, she nodded.

Ulquiorra felt like the hole from his Espada days had returned, and with vengeance. "Really," he stated, rather blankly.

Even after she had given him her heart a long while ago, he couldn't find the courage to lay out his own...

Mistaking his toneless reply for confusion, she added, like she was the expert on hearts and feelings, "Yeah..."

Judging from the hesitance in her voice, she didn't seem to buy her own words. "But you told me you owed me, right? It's different from... other things—I mean we're friends, of course, but you can't mistake _those_ kinds of feelings for your glorifying me."

' _Those' kinds of feelings? Love?_ He corrected her silently, watching her steadily. "You are right," he said carefully in response. "Those are two different things."

He knew exactly which one it was.

Orihime smiled anxiously, but it immediately dropped at his next words.

"And yours toward me?" he asked pointedly. He continued staring at her, the way she pursed her lips together in nervousness, the way her forehead gently wrinkled in thought, and the way her eyes quickly drifted from his face to the window, so that he viewed her in profile.

He didn't know what to hope or fear, but he just didn't want to lose sight of her. He didn't want it to be her turn—in, of course, a more abstract manner—to fade away.

"I hold our friendship dear," she replied slowly. And then he observed, with a dull, aching pain of unattainable yearning, as she put a hand to her heart. "It's because of that," she continued, her eyes fluttering closed in thought, "that I care deeply about you."

He discovered that his hands had formed into fists. He released the tense grip, feeling oddly defeated. But why? Wasn't this enough? Orihime wasn't Ichigo or the rest of her nakama; she had accepted him enthusiastically, with an unadulterated affection he would never, ever find anywhere else. Besides, he still owed her from all the despair and pain he put her through. Her kindness was already plenty.

"Friends?" Ulquiorra repeated expressionlessly. "Is that all... you desire?"

"Yes." For once, she sounded resolute.

 _Friendship is enough_ , he reasoned logically, with his brain.

But in his heart, it wasn't.

At that thought, he knew he had to get out of there. "I must leave," Ulquiorra said in a quiet tone, already making his way to the door. "I have homework to finish tonight."

She didn't move from her position. All he saw was her back: her hourglass figure and the protective shield of orange-red. "Okay."

"I will... see you tomorrow." When has his voice ever hesitated like that?

"Okay."

He wasn't keen on her impersonal tone, but he gathered that he had made the situation awkward enough.

 _She wants me to go._ Hastily, he put on his shoes at the door, and without a good night, left her apartment.

\- { - } -

Orihime found that the only way she could not cry was to close her eyes and blind herself from Ulquiorra's hard, scrutinizing gaze.

Now that he had left, she opened her eyes again, a layer of hot tears readily sliding down her cheeks. She hiccuped and covered her eyes with one arm, her body violently racking with aching sobs. As she withdrew her body inward, her other hand reached up and pressed itself against her heart, as if doing so could stop it from wringing so painfully in her chest.

 _This was the right thing to do,_ she told herself.

But never, in all of her life, had she ever felt so heartbroken.

\- { - } -

It took every amount of Ulquiorra's willpower to grip the railing of the staircase and step down. His other hand squeezed the handle of the open umbrella in the same manner.

 _Walk,_ he ordered himself, every fiber of his mind working his reluctant muscles. _Walk away._

He couldn't do anymore for her than to chase down these wet pavements back to his home, numbly staring down at what seemed like an endless path to nowhere.

_This emotion: the twist in my chest..._

It must be heartbreak.

\- { - } -

About half an hour passed since Ulquiorra had left, but Orihime never moved from her spot.

Not even when she heard the door swing open, with two female voices bursting into the gloomy silence.

"Inoue-san?"

"Orihime-chan! What's the matter?"

It wasn't pouring as hard as it had been while Ulquiorra was there. Strange; she usually enjoyed this kind of weather: the rhythm of it against the roof, the window, and the stair railing outside were relaxing to her ears. Now they felt like needles cutting into her heart.

Tia was the first to get her shoes off and set the wet umbrella next to the door. "I apologize," she said softly. "If I had known you were in an ill mood, I would have come back sooner—heavy rain or not."

Orihime must have looked upset enough for the former Arrancar to say that. The gray-eyed beauty shook her head. "It's nothing. Don't mind me..." she insisted weakly. She forced a quivering smile, but continued not to look directly at her companions. "I'll be fine."

Tia and Rangiku exchanged looks. It reminded her of the way Ichigo and Rukia glanced at each other, their eyes full of secrets.

The buxom shinigami offered to make some hot tea, and so, sauntered to the kitchen to do so. Meanwhile, Tia sank down onto the floor at the table, adjacent to her roommate, who followed suit. "We weren't sure at the time, but we thought we saw Ulquiorra on our way back..." she started. The falter of her words indicated an unasked question.

Instantly, Orihime's chest swelled with pain. "No, it's not him," she lied quietly. "I just—a lot of things are just—I don't know, there are a lot of things going on..."

Tia didn't seem convinced. However, she left the subject alone.

"Orihime-chan," Rangiku spoke up instead from the kitchen, her back two the other two girls. "Not to be... I don't know, the bearer of somber news, but I came with Tia-san to speak to you about something."

This caught Orihime's attention, despite her mood. Her gaze rose to meet Rangiku's back. "A-About what?"

"Soul Society."

"S-Soul... Society?" Orihime repeated, as if she had never heard the word before.

"We need your power there."

She blinked stray tears out of her eyes, puzzled. "For what...?"

It was then she remembered Kisuke's special grenades and the purpose of them. Like a water in harsh stormy weather, recent memories began to flood her mind: the Hollow battle, her dreams, the meeting... hurting Ulquiorra.

_"... she's rather... formidable."_

_"Your reiatsu, Onna. It's leaping strangely..."_

_"It was all real, wasn't it?"_

So much continued to haunt Orihime, and she could only sit and watch in fear as certain events and conversations unfolded, hinting at her unwanted memories. She must have blocked them for a reason, and had done that so feverishly that she gave herself headaches. No one thus far has given Orihime a straight answer. After thinking it over, she wondered if it was because of _their_ mental states; not just her own.

By the gods, what did she _do_?

All she knew was what happened in her dreams—where everything turned to dust. Her recollection never went any further, as if that was enough to hint at "the big thing." Recalling the last time she was in Soul Society, at the way Yamamoto Genryuusai acted toward her, she wondered if it was the only way she could get her answers.

Slender fingers tenderly touched her shoulder.

The redhead blinked as if waking up abruptly from a dream. She tilted her head upward. Rangiku had successfully made a pot of green tea for the three of them. She had just brought it to the table. The lieutenant was frowning for some reason.

"Matsumoto-san?" Orihime asked unsurely.

"Are you really all right?" Rangiku asked delicately. "You look... feverish and out of it."

Orihime looked down at the drink Tia had just now poured her, staring listlessly at the wisps of steam rising from the cup. "Maybe it's the rain..."

"Maybe," the blonde interjected in a serious tone. "But I am more likely to believe that your reiatsu has something to do with it." She calmly fixed Rangiku's and her own serving, adding, "It seems that your emotions have a strong effect on your powers, which in turn affects your physical condition."

Rangiku blew on the tea in her cup and took a careful sip. "With the way things are now," she said, "especially with—"

"That pill," Orihime interrupted with a furrowed gaze, recalling what happened the last time she was with Ulquiorra. "It—"

"I'll get to that; don't worry," the blue-eyed woman replied, and continued. "But with your powers back, you have to be extra careful. You're not a run-of-the-mill fighter anymore." Rangiku set her teacup down. "You absorbed the Hougyoku's power, Orihime-chan," she said gently. "That brings both blessings and consequences. I don't want to get into detail, but during the Winter War, you weakened the barriers surrounding the dimensions of Hueco Mundo, your world, and Soul Society— _especially_ Soul Society. You used up that much power."

Orihime opened her mouth to speak, but Rangiku held a hand up to stop her. "I don't always agree with your friends or some of the members of the Gotei 13 on how they handled _that incident_ ," she went on, "but I do agree that if you knew _exactly_ what happened in Hueco Mundo that day, you would mentally collapse and wallow in guilt."

The words struck the teenage girl like lightning. All she could do at the moment was gape at Rangiku, who in return, offered an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry I deceived you, Orihime-chan," she murmured. "... for not telling you what that capsule was. I don't have an excuse for not telling you beforehand. It was a mistake on my part. Urahara relayed to me what happened with Ulquiorra."

Orihime averted her eyes at the mention of his name.

"I just wanted you to think your powers came back on their own," the strawberry blonde explained. "I know how much your inner and outer strength meant to you." She turned her head, looking embarrassed. "Well, anyway, Orihime-chan. I'm afraid my true objective for being here will have to come to light. You can be disappointed in me later."

Next to the long-haired healer, Tia shifted uncomfortably. She seemed to know what the shinigami meant, but stayed out of the way as Rangiku began to lay out the information.

"The weakened barriers are now laced with magic," she explained seriously. "Yours, Orihime-chan. More precisely, a mixture of yours and the Hougyoku's. It's a unique compound that only _you_ can fix. Firstly, because you're the only one we know of with your kind of healing capabilities save for Ushouda Hachigen. And secondly..."

Orihime found herself leaning forward in anticipation.

".. with the Hougyoku absorbed into you, you are probably one of the most powerful people in Soul Society."

The girl gasped quietly.

For a moment, there was a strong silence between the three. Orihime wasn't sure how to digest the shinigami's words about her. They were usually saved for people like Ichigo and her other nakama. "So..." she spoke up, in almost a whisper. "I have to go to Soul Society to restore the entire... _perimeter_ of it?"

Rangiku nodded slowly. "But that's not all. The true source is Hueco Mundo itself, and there are barriers there that don't touch Soul Society, so we'll need to go _there_ , too..."

All along, Orihime had wanted to be important; to be seen as strong, and to be looked up to. But with great importance came an immense amount of pressure, and now that she knew what she was needed for, she hesitated.

And for Hueco Mundo—a place that had given her nightmares for a long, long time—to be within sight again...

Orihime tightened her anxious grip around her cup.

"I don't want to force you," Rangiku went on. She sounded like she was regretting her words, but as an assignment, she had to continue the obligation. "But you _are_ direly needed. If any of the barriers break, the numbers of Hollows will only increase."

"If it makes you feel any better," Tia finally spoke up, speaking far more seriously than the shinigami herself, "Matsumoto-san ensured me that you will be escorted throughout the ordeal by some of your friends. I'm sure they will not take too well with you suddenly leaving alone."

Orihime pursed her lips together in thought, avoiding both their gazes.

_That's right..._

If she left, then she would be leaving _him_ here for who knew how long. How would she tell him? How would he look at her, then? And when she came back, how would he react? Would they pick up from where they left off? Or would he grow cold again?

That notion saddened her greatly, her heart sore with reluctant longing. For a moment, she wished it was him next to her instead of Tia.

However, it was her own fault that she drove him away. Even though she told herself it was for the better, she still had the urge to cry. But how could she now? Rangiku, oddly enough, had just told her how much strength she had. She needed to play the part, at least, for the time being.

"I've prolonged this mission enough," Rangiku piped up guiltily, running a hand through her wavy tresses. "The guys up there are most likely getting mad up there, but after observing you, I had a feeling you had a lot to deal with."

An understatement.

"Still, I don't think we have much time to keep sitting in the living world."

"I understand," Orihime sighed contemplatively. Basically, the shinigami wanted her to leave as soon as possible _._ Sure, Rangiku sounded like she was giving her the option of staying, but the healer knew that it would be a cowardly decision to do so.

"I will give you a grace period, if you want to say goodbye," the lieutenant continued in a more pleading tone, even though Orihime has yet to protest.

Despite her own willingness, though, deja vu coldly washed over her. It was the second time she was to depart alone for another world. _He_ had even given her a grace period of sorts, as well—

Ulquiorra's expressionless face, impersonal and authoritative, fleeted across her mind. She remembered it like it was just yesterday. No experience so traumatizing could ever be forgotten, and no man so fearsome could be erased, especially with that liquid emerald stare.

_Pang._

"I'm sorry, Inoue-san," Tia broke in, her voice uncharacteristically benign. The redhead swiveled her head to look at her, but the blonde's shamrock green eyes were strained on her tea. "I would be eager to defend you if you do not agree to this arrangement, but... but Matsumoto-san has a point. Hueco Mundo's denizens are not merciful on those they deem weak or petty. The only thing they care about is feeding themselves."

Orihime smiled faintly, dismissing her roommate's excuse, and then turned a purposeful eye to her shinigami friend.

"Orihime-chan?" Rangiku uttered curiously, with an expectant blink.

There was no way around it.

The teenager parted her lips to respond.

"When?"


	9. Hakisuteta Kanjou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's no need for you to be scared of me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Last Word" by High and Mighty Color (UGH, LOVE THIS BAND); "Adagio" by Amici Forever; "Stockholm Syndrome" by Muse

_\- { feelings you've spat out } -_

_A familiar someone had appeared unannounced to Orihime. It was a person on a mission, stealthed via masked reiatsu, which was not quite familiar to her senses, anyway. Orihime didn't know how welcoming this person's presence should be. All the teenage girl could feel was suspicion._

_Maybe Orihime should learn to mask her own reiatsu better._

_"Nemu... -dono? What... what are you doing here?"_

_The robotic, quiet lieutenant bowed stiffly. "Inoue Orihime-san," she greeted, hands clasped business-like in front of her._

_Orihime was positive that something huge was going to happen, but it was unusual how calm Nemu was. While the one with pleated hair didn't move, Orihime visibly tensed, the shift in her feet signifying that she was too anxious to stay still, but she had questions._

_"The test begins," Nemu explained mystically, her voice soft as she bowed again. Without a second to spare, she flashstepped away, disappearing into the dark night like a ghost. Mysteriously, her reiatsu also seemed to vanish._

_A test, Nemu had said. But a test of what? And what for?_

_An image of a secretively smiling Rangiku—holding out a little pill in the palm of her hand—came to mind. Something that had to do with that, for sure.  
_

_Orihime remembered that she wasn't powerless anymore, that her fairies couldn't continue to harness her powers; the pills got her around that. She could control the Hougyoku's abilities that resided within her._

_Gradually, something powerful began to flow through her veins, through every passage in her body._

_She wasn't going to let anybody down._

\- { - } -

It was unusual to not see Ulquiorra at Orihime's beck-and-call, at her side at all times. But when Ichigo and Rukia reached her among the dark streets of downtown Karakura, she was alone—and somehow _afire_ with something he couldn't explain or see.

"You're by yourself?" he managed to ask as he approached, dumbfounded.

"If you're referring to Ulquiorra-kun... it's not his business," Orihime replied softly, without looking at them. "I saw Nemu-dono—"

"Nemu?" Ichigo questioned incredulously.

Rukia narrowed her eyes, becoming more awareness into her surroundings, in search of the lieutenant's reiatsu. "What did she tell you?"

" _The test begins_ ," Orihime quoted without pause. "And then she took off."

"I don't get it," Ichigo broke in suspiciously. "Why would that division—wait, what test?"

Rukia stared at the taller girl for a moment, pondering the idea. And then, her eyes widened, as if an idea slammed into her being with dread. "No..." she whispered, her voice uncharacteristically full of dread. She pulled at the sleeve of Ichigo's robe. He turned to her, startled.

"Ichigo," she muttered cautiously. "The only way the Twelfth Division would be here is if there is a huge piece of data they needed to collect from this world."

"Isn't that what Matsumoto is for?" he pointed out, an eyebrow raised. He didn't understand her uneasiness.

Rukia frowned for a second, but immediately reasoned out a solution. "Kurotsuchi-taichou must have thought Matsumoto-fukutaichou failed somehow. Or well, I don't know. But now—"

Before she could finish, there was a familiar _rip_ from the sky, more effortless than they have ever heard it. The sound was strong and loud, and Ichigo could hear it echoing in his own ears.

They looked up. An area in the night sky not too far from them parted, a jagged slit running horizontally across the otherwise perfect night. In the blackness of the _garganta_ revealed a quad of giant Menos Grande Hollows, four pairs of eye sockets blank but hungry for souls.

Rukia was the first to draw her sword. She held it in front of her in the defense, her violet eyes trained on the enemies and her mouth set in a determined scowl.

The detector Ichigo usually carried during these times went haywire. As he slipped a hand into his robe to shut it off, the most forefront of the four Menos Grande spotted them.

"Shit," he grunted.

Quick like lightning, it dove down with its jaws wide open. The other three followed suit. They all roared menacingly, and if it weren't for the dimensional differences, he was sure that it could be heard all over town.

"SHIT!" Ichigo reiterated more frantically, quickly drawing his zanpakutou. He flashstepped in front of Orihime, but it was the petite dark-haired woman who darted out first.

"Got it!" Rukia shouted, lifting her blade in preparation.

However, something beat her to it. Before she realized what was going on, a ball of yellow-white hurtled past both their visions, at a speed none of them could have fathomed coming from Orihime.

The sparkling projectile streaked through the heart of the first Hollow.

The fairy, which Ichigo assumed was Tsubaki, didn't puncture so cleanly. Something much more explosive took place before sailing back to its owner like a boomerang . Much to his and Rukia's horror, as soon as the fairy hit, the Menos Grande—shaded by a sheen of dandelion yellow—ruptured violently with an echoing, bloodcurdling wail. Its otherwordly remains splattered the roofs of buildings and the streets like gory rain.

"O-Orihime..." a wide-eyed Rukia stuttered breathlessly.

She and Ichigo would soon realize that that wasn't all their sweet, naïve healer was capable of. That same overlay of yellow that had taken over the first Hollow somehow infected the rest of the Hollow quad, the color seeping over them like ominous shadows. The Menos Grandes twisted and roared, as if in scorching pain. They too exploded, their remains raining upon Karakura Town.

Ichigo swallowed, unconsciously taking a step backward. _This scene..._ he found himself uttering in his head.

He knew it all too well.

A few torturous moments later, everything fell silent, and what was left of the Hollows faded away. Despite the grotesque violence, the civilian population remain unperturbed, and the three were safe once again, thanks to Orihime.

"Tsubaki-kun?" came in a horrified squeak.

Ichigo's back felt warmer than usual, as if the sun's rays were shining directly on him. He lowered his brown-eyed gaze to his feet. There was light, much too yellow to be from a flashlight.

Rukia sheathed her sword and turn around. She took a step forward, like she was going to run to Orihime, but something seemed to immediately render her still. Instead, she stared past Ichigo, her face illuminated by—

Ichigo finally looked.

—her pins?

Orihime stood panting, her legs positioned in a fierce battle stance but her eyes rounded, irises small with trauma. Her hands seemed frozen, her hands outstretched with her palms aimed at where the Menos Grandes once were.

That wasn't what worried him.

Her entire being was blocked off—not by her aura lighting up the night—but by the invisible fire of her reiatsu. The heat was dense and overbearing. Ichigo wondered if this was what Ulquiorra had experienced in her apartment.

"Inoue!" he shouted, even though she was only a few feet in front of him.

The girl didn't move; she was lost in her mind. Ichigo hoped to God that she wasn't lost in re-discovered memories of the war.

He sheathed his sword and dared to close the distance, but with every step, it grew hotter. He cursed under his breath and stopped where he was. "Inoue," he tried again.

"Orihime, are you okay?" Rukia called out from behind Ichigo. "Oi!"

After a while, Orihime came to, looking dazed. Slowly, the invisible barricade around her dissipated and her pins flickered out. The air around them cooled. The healer lowered her hands cautiously, looking at them as if they didn't belong to her. However, the unsure expression in her eyes was soon replaced by resolve. She had figured something out.

For some reason, Ichigo didn't like that look. He cleared his throat. "So, uh, do you know what Nemu wants from you?"

"..."

"You do," Rukia guessed. "Orihime, what is it? What should we do?"

"... Kuchiki-san," she replied hesitantly. "I think it's something I should do without your help."

Rukia narrowed her eyes.

Suddenly, a chorus of gruesome tearing resounded above them. It sounded like the planet Earth itself was ripping apart. In the night sky, they could see the crooked gashes in the sky, numerous openings of the all-too-familiar _garganta_.

"Fuck," Ichigo muttered. He hoped that everyone he knew in Karakura capable of fighting Hollows was out there right now, including the elusive Vizards.

"What the hell did Nemu do?" Rukia wondered with urgency, her violet orbs flitting from one opening to the other.

"Ne," Orihime spoke up rather hastily from out of nowhere, avoiding looking at them by concentrating her gaze at the scarred night sky. "I have my grenades on me. I can run to the center and use mine. You two should use yours a little further away from the epicenter."

"H... _HUH_?" Ichigo answered, completely baffled. Just what in hell was she up to? Why did she sound so put-together? Why did she sound so self-sacrificing? Where was this battle-forward, fast-thinking Orihime coming from?

"You have a cell phone, right? A real one?" she continued in a rush. "Call Ishida-kun and Sado-kun. Make sure they take care of other areas. I don't know if Urahara-san has a phone, but somehow contact him, too." Without waiting for their reply, Orihime bowed in apology and started to run off.

For a second, both of the shinigami stood petrified, barely registering the words... but seconds later, Ichigo shot forward and grabbed her by the wrist.

Her skin felt hot; feverish.

"You don't have to do anything alone, you know," he said seriously, "We're a team."

"It was meant for me alone," she replied distantly, and shrugged out of his grasp.

"No! Orihime—" Rukia tried to reason, all of a sudden caught up in panic.

"Wait a sec, Inoue," Ichigo tried to say, but was quickly cut off by a sparkling dot of light suddenly dashing past him.

"Goddamnit!" Ichigo couldn't help but cry out, holding his hand over the rip on his robe's sleeve. Tsubaki didn't actually hurt him, but the burning-hot sensation from the light graze was enough to get his breath briefly caught in his throat.

_But..._

_Inoue would never aim a fucking fairy at me._

After getting over the initial shock, he gave her a hard look of warning. Perhaps it was time to treat her more callously, not like a damsel who needed guidance or rescuing, nor pitying; acting more gently because he knew she once loved him. She had changed, and as much as Ichigo was glad to see her stepping up, he briefly longed for the times where he had a girl look for him to be her hero.

"You did not just do that," he said in a low voice. "You're letting your emotions get the best of you, Inoue." It was bullshit what he was spitting out, but he needed an excuse to not have to see her ultimate spell, nor to have to pray to some anonymous, hidden god that Orihime's luck was on her side.

Orihime frowned. "Gomen, Kurosaki-kun," she said softly; he could hardly hear her. "But this is meant for me."

"No one is making you do this," Rukia pointed out, her voice laced with the slightest tremble. "Don't fall into Nemu's trap."

"There's no need to be scared of me, Kuchiki-san," Orhime replied, sounding strangely noble. The uneasy smile on her face almost looked like a hurt one. "I know what I'm doing."

"Hold on," Rukia protested. "I'm not scared. I'm just unwilling to..." She finished with a frustrated huff instead.

It was no use arguing with her, was it? Their princess was hellbent on being a warrior even though she looked quite scared. However, Ichigo could see that her fear would not deter her from her plan.

For a few brief seconds, he closed his eyes in resignation, before opening them again and laying a hand on the petite shinigami next to him. "There's no stopping her," he sighed. He looked into the distance. He swore he could feel the reiatsu of his other nakama hard at work, even from where they were standing. "We're short on time, anyway."

As if on cue, the ground beneath their feet shook. The Hollows had begun to move. Ichigo looked around them. The residential homes on the streets began to light up, lights turning on in rapid succession. The psuedo-earthquake of sorts had caught their attention. Not good. If they were able to sense the doings of a being not even in the same plane as them, then they were _really_ short on time.

"I'm going," Orihime announced quickly. "Please... remember what I said."

Ichigo's eyes zoned in on the expression on Orihime's face. There, he saw determination, as well as outward bravery masking her fear and certainty.

_Yeah, she's definitely different._

Ichigo didn't know if he was even looking at the same girl who was protected aggressively by the more assertive Tatsuki; the same girl he unfortunately saw get backhanded savagely by Yammy Llargo and tossed away like a ragdoll... the one he remembered getting turned away by Urahara Kisuke for not being strong enough.

He felt a hard shake at his elbow. He turned slightly, unable to wholly tear his eyes away from the strangely fascinating notion of Orihime containing and releasing the power of a god.

"Ichigo!" Rukia hissed. "ICHIGO! Your grenade!"

Why she wanted him to give up his first, he didn't know, but Ichigo complied to her wish without question. As Orihime ran off, he fished the Space Saver Grenade out of the sleeve of his robe and threw it down.

For a moment, the two who remained were engulfed in smoke. Ichigo tried not to wince, for the white smoke was considerably thick.

Immediately, he felt a forceful tug on his un-torn sleeve from Rukia. "Run," Rukia barked. "Just because the world can't see the damage doesn't mean _we_ can't feel it."

Ichigo nodded, but not before tossing a look over to the masking cloud of smoke, beyond to where Orihime ran.

_I have faith in you, Inoue._

\- { - } -

_"Are you going to tell us why her reiatsu is doing that or not?" Ulquiorra asked Kisuke impatiently, although it was easy to see that the conversation was going nowhere._

_The ever-so-odd store owner tapped his fan against his stubbled chin._

_Orihime now sat at the head of the low table, where Kisuke had been before. She still looked rather stiff, possibly awaiting the next time Ulquiorra tried to argue. The ex-Cuatro sitting beside her glared as Kisuke leaned against the doorway, who was figuring out how to tactfully answer._

_"It's simple," he finally said, his voice cryptic all the same._

_"_ _Look at what you experienced this afternoon. Look at our Orihime-chan's dreams. I'm sure someone as smart as you can put two and two together."_

 _Ulquiorra gritted his teeth._ _"_ _You_ _―"_

 _"_ _What do you want us to tell you?"_ _Kisuke asked her, the shadows under his hat brim matching the darkness in his tone._ _"_ _What you want to know... you already figured out. And I think it's enough before Orihime-chan's mental health goes haywire."_

 _Orihime averted her eyes, her gray depths skimming the edge of the table. She wasn't taking his words with a grain of salt; they affected her deeply._  
  
_"Can't I... control myself?"_ _she wondered softly._

 _"_ _It depends on you,"_ _Tessai spoke up, his deep voice more gentle than his superior's. "_ _But the expanse of your power can cause terrible destruction not unlike the damages of nuclear war. You may be able to repeat what you did to them_ _―"_

_Yoruichi cleared her throat loudly, but the words were erronously already heard._

_"_ _Anyway,"_ _Kisuke spoke up again, drawing out the word. "_ _There is a delicate balance between her heart and her capabilities. And until her well-being is at ease, it will remain unstable."_

\- { - } -

"God, I hate being stuck with you!" Grimmjow yelled at Uryuu as he followed after him. "It's like being stuck with Ulquiorra but without the awkwardness!"

"So noisy," Uryuu retorted, but otherwise ignored him. Why was Grimmjow following him, anyway? When Ichigo called and said for them to run away from Orihime's reiatsu and the Hollows invading Karakura, he didn't mean that the larger man had to use the exact same path...

_Of all the people to randomly run into..._

Even though Ulquiorra was an equal amount of dead weight, Uryuu would have preferred the former Cuatro Espada to Grimmjow; at least _he_ didn't talk very much.

"Oi, you used yours, right?" Grimmjow asked loudly.

"For the millionth time, yes!" Uryuu cried impatiently, wishing that he could just stick one arrow into the turquoise-haired brute. "Make sure you get your grenades ready. We're almost out of range of the last one."

After that was taken care of, the two of them found themselves across a bridge, in an eerily quieter part of town. It was an uphill-ish area of Karakura; it didn't give them a bird's eye view of the town, but high enough for them to see what Orihime was doing from a distance.

Uryuu and Grimmjow would also soon find out that they would have company. They were surprised to see Rangiku, as well as Tia, who seemed confused and silent. The shinigami, on the other hand, looked grim.

"Funny seeing you guys here," Rangiku told them in greeting, her voice rather buoyant for her expression. "But at least now you're at a safe distance."

The Quincy wondered if she sounded that way because she finished an objective for her assignment.

"Yeah, funny," Grimmjow retorted sarcastically. "Now what the hell's going on?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you that I don't quite know," the shinigami told him easily.

"I don't, that's for sure," Uryuu couldn't help but break in.

Rangiku ignored his response, and went on. "Tia and I both felt the Hollow's presence, and went out. We saw Nemu—"

"Nemu-san is here?" Uryuu repeated disbelievingly, his dark blue eyes wide.

"Yes," Rangiku confirmed. "We found Nemu racing along the street and followed at an undetectable distance. She ran like she was being chased, but I actually think she was searching for something."

"Or someone," Tia continued for her.

"Inoue-san," Uryuu deduced immediately.

The blonde nodded.

It was Uryuu who cleared his throat. "Matsumoto-san, Harr-Haribe-senpai, why didn't you intervene? You could have stopped Nemu-san, and therefore, stop whatever the Twelfth Division is trying to do. You're an enabler."

Tia glanced at Rangiku, who eyed him for a second, unsure of how to answer at first. "It can't easily be explained," the lieutenant finally replied.

"What does that mean!" Uryuu questioned with fury.

Rangiku didn't look proud of what she knew. Even though Uryuu grew to understand the concept of necessary evils, he still couldn't help but think of how corrupt Mayuri was, and how cold even the head member of the Gotei 13 was. He didn't doubt that they needed Orihime for something, but to see the girl in distress hurt him.

"I honestly can't tell you why _exactly_ Nemu is here. I do know that in order to bring Orihime back to Soul Society—"

"To Soul Society?" Grimmjow echoed doubtfully.

"—Mayuri needs essential data. For the barriers, I guess. I suppose he needed a better look at _that_ shield. And somehow, Nemu will give him that information."

"Barriers?" the ex-Sexta repeated. "What barriers?"

Fortunately for Rangiku, Tia spoke up, who seemed knowledgeable on the subject. "Without dimensional barriers separating the living world, Soul Society, and Hueco Mundo, Hollows can overrun wherever they want, and I assume there would not be enough shinigami force to track them all. It would destroy the balance."

Uryuu furrowed a brow, already knowing about that situation with Orihime. He guessed Grimmjow didn't. "Even now, there are _that many_ Hollows in Hueco Mundo?" he wondered.

Tia turned to him, as if he had asked a stupid question. Contrarily, he meant it seriously.

Rangiku sighed, conveniently ignoring Tia. "You should already know this, Ishida. People in the living world die every day. We may be a big force, and train hundreds of Pluses as shinigami, but we can't catch all of the souls. Especially when a good number of them are fighting off Hollows, who are—quite easily—appearing in Soul Society. This is all why we need Orihime."

Suddenly, a warm, but frightening burst of energy ran through Uryuu's body with a soundless hum, awakening his senses. It was warning him. In an instant, his anger toward Rangiku ended, and fear began.

_It feels like..._

Uryuu closed his eyes, struggling with the memories of the war. He hadn't thought about it in months, but no matter how long it had been, it was never a welcome memory. The nudge of Orihime's vast reiatsu against his system was only a second long before—

"Whatever you're thinking," he suddenly heard Rangiku cut into his thoughts, her tone suddenly stern. Uryuu, even without looking, suddenly became aware of the shinigami's eyes boring into him. He opened his own. Her expression matched her voice. "It will do you no good. This will never be what that was."

Tia and Grimmjow turned to her, perplexed by the vague words.

But the lieutenant said no more.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra's strong ability sense of others' reiatsu didn't fade at the least, thankfully, and that included the mysteriously overpowering one of Orihime. It was odd... it was like she was everywhere at once, and he didn't know where to start running.

It was then something else sank in. He had no powers; only swordsmanship. It frustrated him. How was he even going to protect her? Would she even let him?

"Other way!" yelled a familiar male voice.

He looked up, and found Ichigo and Rukia sprinting toward him. "Kuro—"

Before Ulquiorra could finish, he felt the orange-haired man swiftly pull his arm and drag the poor raven-haired Resurrected behind him.

"What is the meaning of this!" Ulquiorra growled, out of breath from the run he was forced to take. "That woman was nearby, wasn't she?"

"Yeah!" Rukia responded hastily. "But she's about to unleash her power on the Hollows! We need to get out of the way!"

"I need to be there," Ulquiorra insisted angrily.

"Why!" Ichigo yelled, gaping at him wildly. "You'll get burnt to a crisp! The grenades ain't perfect, you know!"

After what seemed like forever, they finally stopped somewhere the green-eyed man didn't recognize, the three of them doubled over, catching their breaths. Ulquiorra estimated that they were a some number of miles from where the two shinigami had found him. He assumed Ichigo and Rukia ran more. He briefly wondered how they were even able to do that. Was it some kind of human emergency response?

The location looked like what they termed a _park_ , complete with colorful, garish-looking play-mounts for the children, a box full of sand, and swings. Surrounding the park was forestry, the trees swaying gently to a peaceful breeze despite what was going on further into the town.

Rukia, having finally caught her breath, straightened. She closed her eyes. "That surge of energy," she whispered. "It's Inoue."

Ulquiorra didn't say anything, but he, too, felt it. He didn't want to admit it to either of the people with him, but he was glad he was far away.

Ichigo led them to a clearing, where a cliff stood, wide enough for all three of them to stand on without being squished, and tall enough for them to be able look over the rest of town.

Ulquiorra silently watched as a great, yellow dome formed, starting out as big as a pinhead from where he was standing, and growing rapidly until it expanded over many blocks. Within it were numerous Hollows, mostly Menos Grandes.

In horrified wonder, he observed as everything within the yellowness disintegrated into no more than sand.

It was a scarily familiar scene, one he had hoped he would never come across again.

Beside him, Ichigo's face remained hard but indifferent, while Rukia looked increasingly unsettled. It was a familiar scene for them, as well, but he didn't know how. He debated whether or not he even wanted to.

\- { - } -

Nemu's questionable presence made Uryuu's stomach churn, so after Orihime's ordeal was done, he announced to Rangiku, Tia, and Grimmjow that he was going to find Nemu.

Rangiku had given him an unusual look. _"I think she knows what she's doing."_

 _"It doesn't mean she must follow every one of Kurotsuchi's steps,"_ the Quincy had pointed out. _"I firmly believe she is an accomplice, but not a criminal."_

After that, he took off. And by sheer luck (or misfortune, in his opinion), he found that his feet had taken him to Urahara Shouten.

He gritted his teeth in open frustration. "Why does everything have to end up at his idiot man's store!" he complained aloud. He quickly regained his composure, though, fixing the position of his spectacles on his nose.

Unbeknownst to him, a figure in a striped hat seemed to have expected him. Coming out of the shadows of the shop's hanging roof, Kisuke ventured down the steps, his clogs noisily making his presence known.

Kisuke smiled. "Lovely time in the evening for these shenanigans, ne?" were the first words out of his mouth.

Uryuu suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"I had an idea of what Orihime-chan was going to do, so I had sent Ururu and Jinta and some Vizards out to cover the rest of the perimeter earlier," Kisuke continued on, as if the Quincy had asked him questions. "As well as look for Ulqui-kun, but it seems as though he's lost. None of them have returned yet. But!" He gestured grandly to the dining room. "Sado-kun did bring us something very useful."

This tidbit caught the teenager's attention. "Sado-san's here?"

"Yup! Fresh out of battle, too!"

"... I don't see how you can sound so happy at a time like this."

"Tessai made some onigiri earlier. Would you like one—?"

"Do you even know what I said just now!" Uryuu shot him an annoyed look and silently moved past him into the dining room behind the shop.

Yasutora, in his battle form, greeted him with a silent nod of the head. He had been standing guard in the room, his face expressionless and his arms crossed as he kept watch over someone across from him. The Quincy turned his head. A battle-weakened, black-haired woman was sitting there, her feet tucked under her and her head down, her eyes seeming to bore into her clasped hands in front of her.

"Nemu-san," Uryuu gasped.

At the sound of his voice, she turned, her dark eyes skimming his features. "We meet again," she said patiently.

Her face remained more steady and emotionless than Ulquiorra nowadays, but somehow, the Quincy could sense relief in her even voice.

He dared to sit across from her at the table. Even though he was at least a little bit glad that the lieutenant was out of reach from her abusive captain (at least, for the moment), he wasn't going to be any easier on her. "What did you just do in my world?" Uryuu questioned in a hard voice. "And how?"

Nemu simply looked at him, straight in the eye. It was unnerving, the way she could so easily stare at someone without remorse, guilt, or anything in-between. Uryuu knew he couldn't fault her for it, due to her lack of experience in anything other than following Mayuri's orders to a T. Nonetheless...

"Come on, you can't hide this," Uryuu continued. "I saw it with my own eyes. All those Hollows somehow knew to go to Inoue-san. I think you baited Hollows to Karakura—to Inoue-san—by some weird means. Did Kurotsuchi really put you up to all this? What was he thinking?"

"I don't know, Ishida-san."

"Nemu-s—"

"I am not lying," she interrupted. "I'm sorry, Ishida-san. I was only given orders... not explanations."

"Why would you let this happen if you weren't given explanations?" Uryuu shot back. He pointed outside. "Inoue-san is like an unstable bomb. If your purpose was to test that fact in _my_ world, then you succeeded. But not only might you have drawn out emotional scars on all sides, but you could have somehow triggered a fallacy not unlike what happened with the fake Karakura Town."

She regarded him coolly. "We are on the same side, Ishida-san," she said.

"I didn't say—"

"Please trust us," she interrupted. "We don't intend on bringing harm on Inoue Orihime. Yamamoto-soutaichou may seem sour in regards to her, but in actuality, she is a valuable person."

"She is a _person_ , nonetheless," Uryuu pointed out.

"I don't want to be rude," Nemu went on, "but you should perhaps remind yourselves of that fact, as well."

"I-I beg your pardon!"

"Ishida," broke in a much deeper voice from behind him—Yasutora. Uryuu craned his neck reluctantly.

Yasutora frowned thoughtfully. "... I think she's right."

Uryuu trusted Yasutora's judgment on many things, but he wasn't sure about this time. Yet, somewhere deep inside of him, the Quincy knew that he was wrongfully seeing their nakama princess as a some _thing—_ a _bomb_ , in fact—rather than a girl who wanted trust and everlasting love more than anything else. Come to think of it, why hadn't he thought of finding Orihime first rather than coming here?

He sighed and backed off.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra had been the first to leave Ichigo and Rukia's company to find Orihime. After a long run, used up by anxious energy, he, at last, found a familiar head of burnt orange hair leaning against the railing of a bridge, breathing hard and staring absently up at the crescent moon.

She was obviously drained, but no less beautiful, like an angel in contemplation seeking guidance from the sky.

Ulquiorra was quick to kneel by her side and silently survey her form. Before he could speak, however, she turned her gaze to him, not expecting his presence. "Ulquiorra-kun..." she breathed unsurely.

"I..." he began, for some reason unable to formulate a proper sentence. "... I saw what you did."

She nodded slowly, not completely paying attention. She had other things in mind, clearly. "For a second," she mumbled listlessly, "before the grenades reconstructed everything to their original forms, I saw... that they all turned to dust. It made me wonder..." Her voice trailed off.

 _Maybe it had to do with what she originally did during the war_ , Ulquiorra reasoned. He was afraid that she would break down if she thought any more of it it. "Inoue... you don't have to speak anymore. Come; let's get you—"

Her head suddenly swayed; a strong wave of dizziness suddenly overtook her. Her eyelids began to flutter close.

Ulquiorra muttered her name with toneless worry, automatically reaching his arms out to catch her crumpling form.

. .

_She opened her eyes._

_The silence was deafening, clogging her ears the same way the loudest noises would. Orihime raised her fingers to press against them, to muffle the soundlessness, but found that there was literally nothing in her surroundings that could cause such a thing._

_She took a timid step forward. She felt sand underneath her feet. She didn't remember going outside. How did she get there?_

_The sky, dim and desolate as it has always been, loomed over her, but something about it was different._

_The moon seemed to be watching her with dreadful hostility._

_This shouldn't have happened._

_Orihime stared at the sand with a wide, disbelieving gray stare, watching in despair as her teardrops mixed in with the cold, white grains—_

_. ._

Again, she opened her eyes.

But this time, she was in a dark bedroom. In Karakura.

Outwardly, it shouldn't have meant anything to her, because it was just her, the night sky in Hueco Mundo, and sand. But she felt a shudder rack her body. There was something horrendous and _fearsome_ about the scenario.

"Inoue?"

That voice. "Ulquiorra-kun!" she whispered desperately. She realized that she was on the verge of tears, every second of her dream sinking into her body with emotions she didn't want to understand. "I feel like the sky is going to surround me and the moon is going to swallow me—"

"Your voice is rising," he interrupted, his voice smooth and steady despite the girl's hysterics. "Calm down. Do not wake Tia."

In the darkness, she heard the rustle of him moving away from her table. When she turned toward him, she found his silhouette and his green eyes, which were shadowed by the darkness, but sparkling darkly against the moonlight peeking through the curtains. Almost instantly, he was at her side.

She had never been so relieved to see him until now.

"... What happened this time?"

"I don't..." her voice trailed off, her brain already in the process of shoving the traumatic dream from her thoughts. "... I don't want to talk about it right now."

"It will alleviate you to do so. I will listen."

The last three words made her feel a little better, but Orihime just didn't want to deal with it. There was nothing she wanted to disclose at the moment.

"Ulquiorra-kun..." she whispered instead, her throat clinching as a fresh wave of tears hit her. He didn't question her practically pouncing on him in an embrace. Unlike tender ones she's given him in the past, this one was of shivering desperation and obvious distress, her hold on him tight and clammy.

She felt him heave a small sigh, his breath blowing warmly across the top of her head. His arms snaking around her felt so nurturing and safe, that for the moment, she forgot about their arguments, her reasons for keeping away from him in the first place. She needed to be held.

"I don't want to go to bed," she mumbled in a tiny voice. "Just let me forget. Forget this, forget everything..."

"You had a long night," he chided. "I insist you sleep."

She frowned. "I can't." She knew she sounded pathetic, but she was too frightened to close her eyes.

He didn't seem to know how to answer that. "Lie down," he ordered instead. Taking the initiative, he pushed her shoulders back, to the pillow coldly waiting for her.

"No," she protested quickly, grasping the front of his shirt fearfully as she sat up again.

His open shock at her reaction was so unexpected that she couldn't take her eyes away from his face. "Onna," he replied in dismay, the usage of the word indicating his impatience. "Do not object."

"Why don't you understand?" she complained softly.

"I do," he said simply. "Inoue, I will be right here. Tia is also asleep directly across from you. You will be okay."

She frowned, emotions getting the better of her. "That's not helping."

"What do you want me to do?" Letting his gaze drift, he added, in a much smaller tone, "I never know what you want of me."

"I want you to understand _._ I don't know—to _feel_ what I'm feeling."

His eyes narrowed. "You know perfectly well that I do, _Woman_ , so do not tell me such foolish things. Are you not grateful? Why do you think I am still here?"

His words silenced her. She wasn't sure what kind of reaction she was supposed to get, but she didn't expect for him to have the upper hand. She wasn't being grateful, was she? Ulquiorra was the closest thing she had to a best friend aside from Tatsuki, but she had pushed him away, buffering every advance he made toward her.

Orihime had been greedy; a spoiled, naïve princess, while Ulquiorra looked after her like her loyal knight.

"How would you _feel_ , Inoue Orihime," Ulquiorra continued darkly, "if you were awakened in a new place where everyone has already passed judgment on you, and the one person you swore loyalty to was not only dead, but regarded as the epitome of corruption? Who do I follow after that? The human I mentally tore apart? The humans I physically tore apart? How do I learn to live on my own?"

His emerald eyes pierced her like twin daggers, catching her attention like nothing else.

"What do I do..." he went on more softly, searching her eyes, "... with these emotions inside of me that I have yet to _fully_ comprehend? These wretched _feelings_ that I only discovered seconds before my death as Arrancar?"

Orihime, unable to say anything under his burning stare, flickered her eyes to somewhere beyond his shoulder.

She had just realized that his hands warmly covered hers, loosening her frantic grip.

"Sorry," she whispered to him.

He didn't move. There was a slight flinch in his hand muscles, as if he wanted to, but he chose to keep her clammy fingers warm and calm.

His words registered further. Ulquiorra's first instance of feeling could _never_ be _wretched_ , as he put it. Rather, it was she who was. Her stubbornness and inconsideration were wretched, selfish beyond doubt.

"I haven't been totally open with you," she spoke up again, her tone guilty.

"I know." There was no hesitation in his words.

 _Pang._ "Ulquiorra-kun—"

"You do not have to say anything now," he said, avoiding her eyes. "You will become more delirious if you continue to force yourself awake."

"But—" Her words were cut off when he carefully, but firmly pulled her into his arms. She refrained from letting out a surprised cry, as not to awaken Tia. She honestly didn't expect him to do this; she didn't know what could have spurred it.

Being held by Ulquiorra felt stiff at first. He seemed uncomfortable from initiating the embrace. Orihime had always been the one to do the hugging; she knew how to mold her form against him.

The thought of that made her heart thump anxiously.

"Close your eyes," he murmured.

With his deep, velvet tone against her ear, Orihime couldn't help but relax against him. She felt her eyes grow heavy for the first time in a while, lids aching to rest. Ulquiorra adjusted his hold as she slumped further into him. He seemed to grow more at ease.

With her eyes closed and her body beginning to shut down, she felt him lay her back into her futon. He was surprisingly gentle, caring in the way he handled her. As her mind drifted into dreamland, she wondered... since when did the once formidable Ulquiorra Cifer become so soft?

_Oniisan... I'm still confused...  
_

_Does he actually love me? Does he know its true meaning?_

\- { - } -

Tia woke up that morning pleasantly surprised.

A familiar dark-haired male was slumbering at the low table, with his head buried in his folded arms. She looked from him to the redhead tucked into her futon nearby, snoozing peacefully. She furrowed a brow curiously. Strange. She was accustomed to seeing a troubled look on her face from her nightmares, but this was very interesting.

With her foot, she nudged Ulquiorra's shoulder, looking amused as he woke up, halfway from toppling to his side. Regaining his balance, he immediately tilted his head upward, expecting, well, _not_ Tia towering over his sitting figure. "Ino—" He gritted his teeth behind closed lips. "What are _you_ doing here?" he asked, now annoyed.

"If I recall correctly," she replied, an devilish glint in her eye despite her serious expression. " _I_ live here. Not you."

He didn't say anything.

"At least I know that you are a gentleman, Ulquiorra."

He responded with a slight glare.

She only smirked.

He tossed a look toward the slumbering redhead, his eyes softening a tiny degree. "That woman had another nightmare."

"And it made you worry. You still are."

"... I did not say that."

Tia prided herself in being extremely intuitive of others, which served as a great advantage in battle at one point in time. She was glad to know that she hasn't lost her touch. "You should have woken me up, then. You could have gone home last night."

"It does not matter."

"Hm. So, you are saying _you_ would rather take care of her than her own roommate."

"I _did not_ say that." His eyebrow twitched at the very slightest. "Are you trying to make me look like a fool?"

"A love fool, possibly," she remarked, her facial expression never changing.

"You have been spending too much time with Grimmjow and Matsumoto Rangiku, I see," he scoffed.

"I don't see your point," Tia said dryly. She looked toward the sleeping Orihime again and then back to Ulquiorra. "You may leave. I will take it from here."

He hesitated. He glanced past the blonde and to the teenage girl in her futon, getting an eyeful of her one last time before forcing himself to his feet. His mop of hair guarded whatever emotion he was holding in those green orbs of his, and Tia wasn't sure if it was intentional.

Something had happened between Ulquiorra and Orihime, obviously, but Ulquiorra had either given up trying to resolve it, or Orihime was too stubborn to let him. What a sad thing, she thought, for the healer to leave for Soul Society without letting him, out of all people, know. The rest of them had stayed silent about it in front of him, hoping that Orihime—the closest person to him—would take that responsibility, but so far, no dice.

Tia couldn't help but pity the both of them. A simple misunderstanding between the two had caused such a messy obstacle in their relationship.

"For both your sakes, Ulquiorra," Tia said as he reached the door, "I hope you two work things out."

He left quietly enough, but she swore she had heard him mutter, "me too," as he closed the door behind him.

Time to put things in motion...

\- { - } -

That afternoon, after a long-awaited, much-needed nap at home, Ulquiorra found Grimmjow waiting outside when he slid his door open.

Grimmjow grinned mischievously. "Whatcha doin', pal?"

Ulquiorra regarded him skeptically. "... What do you want?"

Before he knew it, the leaner of the two boys was hoisted roughly over the other's shoulders.

This did not compute as normal.

Nor was it tolerable by any means.

"Put me down _immediately_ ," Ulquiorra snarled, his voice dripping acid.

Grimmjow cackled in response. "God, If Aizen could see this! The Sexta carrying around Cuatro like a sack of bat shit!"

_Potatoes would have sufficed..._

Many futile punches to Grimmjow's back later, Ulquiorra dizzyingly (Grimmjow was terrible at transporting other people, apparently) saw that they had arrived at the front of the shop.

Instantly, he remembered one cold night when Orihime appeared there, where, for the first time, he saw her in a heartbreakingly vulnerable, but god-like light. Tearstained face or not, she was the most exquisite being he had ever seen.

And incidentally, there he saw her again.

Until Ulquiorra's face hit the concrete.

Luckily, there were no more than bruises on his face from the unsafe handling, but his pride was definitely a little wounded.

"U-Ulquiorra-kun..." Orihime gasped from her perch, seated in front of the shop.

"You could afford to be gentler with him," he heard Tia say above him.

"Che," was the cheeky reply.

Someone was definitely going to die later.

Ulquiorra pulled himself to his feet, his emerald eyes instantly falling on Orihime's. She seemed to be as startled as he was. Neither tore their eyes away from each other.

He felt like the world had stopped around them, and that they were the only two moving within it.

Grimmjow let out a low whistle. "I don't think we're needed, Tia," he remarked jokingly. "Look at 'em."

"We must be on our way, then," the blonde said. "You two can thank us later." Ulquiorra barely noticed the two of them leaving.

He couldn't tell if Orihime was happy to see him or not. He didn't want that to matter to him, but _of course_ it did.

She smiled. It was another one of those smiles that didn't make her eyes sparkle. He had the urge to wipe it off her face and somehow find a way to make her beam for real.

"Did you get some sleep?" she asked him.

"I should be asking you that," he answered stoically.

"Well..." Her cheeks reddened. "I did..." She ducked her head. "... thanks to you, Ulquiorra-kun... but that's not what I came to tell you."

There was another moment of hesitation, this time followed by nervous laughter coming from her. "I don't know how to talk about these things..."

So much stalling. It was irritating. "Speak," he barked.

She jumped. Unfortunately, it made her even more timid. It was almost comical, but he didn't feel like playing games.

"... U-Ulquiorra-kun..." she finally spoke up. "I have to leave soon. In a few days."

He shot a puzzled look at her, but waited for her to finish.

Her ash-colored eyes were apologetic and steady, accompanied by a flash of guilt. He didn't like that look.

"For... Soul Society."

His chest lurched with something unexpectedly painful. He should have guessed—with the Hollows, the Twelfth Division lieutenant, the damn _pill_. All parts of Rangiku's mission have fallen into place; the objectives cleared except for this one: her leave.

Her words were loud and clear, but he had trouble accepting it. Why hadn't he known? Was he the last to find out? Why was she going? How long? Despite the flood of questions in his mind, he could only utter a reluctant, "... Why?"

"Rangiku-san told me that I'm the only one who can reinforce the barriers between the different worlds," she elaborated softly. " _Me_ , Ulquiorra-kun. I... was somehow responsible for weakening them in the first place, and now I have to fix them."

"You are that powerful," he summed up easily. In some ways, he was proud of her. After being overshadowed by her nakama, being deemed as weak and sidelined, she deserved recognition.

But _he_ had always thought she was strong.

"How long?"

She frowned; she didn't know. "I'm doing this so I can protect everyone," she said instead, tears threatening to build up. "So I can protect you, Ulquiorra-kun. That incident before with that Hollow... I never want to see you in that state again. And I don't want my powers' instability to hurt you."

But how about him? He wanted to protect her, too. That was all he wanted to do; to protect his savior—no, the little fairy goddess he had _fallen in love with_.

"You..." was all he could manage to utter. What could he do now? What could he _feel_ now? A mixture of emotions swirled inside his gut, rendering him both speechless and motionless.

Meanwhile, Orihime stood up from her seat on the stoop and made her way toward him. "I'm sorry, I should've told you," she murmured. "But it's not like I'll be gone forever."

_No... every moment without you feels like forever._

Ulquiorra was tired of her slipping away. This wasn't Hueco Mundo. She wasn't a damsel waiting to be rescued, nor was he an evil Espada. She wasn't grasping at dust, and he wasn't grasping at her heart. Things were different now.

The girl was suddenly leaving, and he wasn't going to let things between them leave off so awkwardly like this.

His hand fished itself out of his pocket. In a fluid motion, he reached toward her and entangled his fingers into the strands of hair on the back of her head. He tugged at her gently, bringing her closer.

Before she could protest, Ulquiorra tilted his chin downward, closing his eyes as he dipped his face into her hair. He let his lips brush warmly and solidly against the side of her head.

He felt her stiffen. She didn't reciprocate the action in any way. He didn't know what her face said, but he wasn't going to turn his gaze to her and make his assumptions. He didn't want to stop and think if his action was wrong, because he didn't believe it was. Although he didn't completely understand why he felt so motivated to kiss her like that, it felt right _,_ and he wasn't going to regret it.

But wait.

The frozen statue that had been Orihime suddenly liquified into mush; she had begun to collapse straight down on weakened knees. Thinking something bad had happened like the night before, he quickly caught her, but distracted by his own musings, he was much less graceful this time around and ended up falling on his rear with his legs sprawled out, surrounding a cold and trembling Orihime lying against him.

"Inoue...?" he asked her, lightly shaking her shoulder. "Inoue?"

It wasn't what he had expected.

Orihime felt cold and shaky, but looking in her wide-eyed, glistening pools of ashen gray, Ulquiorra read clearly her remorseful apology. She seemed to have discovered something and felt terrible for not seeing it sooner. It had been that shocking realization that brought her to her knees.

Finally responsive, she reached over cautiously to cup his tear-scarred cheeks. "Ulquiorra-kun," she whispered. "I'm... so sorry..."

He only stared at her.

"I shouldn't have played with your emotions like that. I should've told you sooner. I should've—I should've done a lot of things."

After regathering himself, he agreed. "Yes... you should have..." He was surprised to discover that he wasn't actually angry at her, and although she could have prevented a lot of unnecessary things from happening, he felt the burdens from both sides lighten their shoulders.

Instead of verbally responding, Orihime cautiously buried her face into his chest, the hands against his face gliding down until they curled against him, seeking warmth.

"Inoue," he murmured after a hestitant moment. He stared down at the crown of her head with contemplation. "What—"

"I'm so stupid..." she weeped. He felt the wetness of her tears dampening his shirt. "Such an _idiom_..."

"..."

_A what?_

Emotional moment ruined, courtesy of Orihime.

He glanced down at her curiously. That word wasn't even in Spanish. " _Idiota_?" he guessed.

She sniffled. "That's what I said!"

He was still not used to the idea of spontaneously smiling, but before he knew it, there was one pulling at his lips.

That was how Ulquiorra knew they were going to be okay.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra and Orihime saw each other again the next day. Although it was a weekday, class had been let out for a spring holiday.

"So is the school letting you go into third year?" she asked him as they walked along the sidewalk of a park.

He tilted his head slightly in thought. "The administrators did not say anything to suggest otherwise."

"Even Grimmjow-san?"

He sighed, irritated. "Considering that I have been doing over half his homework, and that Tia was always the one making excuses for his troublemaking ways in class, yes."

Orihime bit back a giggle. It was nice to see that Ulquiorra's relationship with Grimmjow had softened over time, to the point that he was willing to do such things for his fellow ex-Espada. "You and Grimmjow-san must be close, huh?"

He stopped to stare at her. Disgust was written all over his face. Orihime was already a few steps ahead of him before she realized that he had quit walking completely. Momentum got the better of her when she tried to follow suit. "Ah..." she said questioningly, teetering a bit. She turned to him. "What is it?"

"Grimmjow and I are not close," he explained succinctly, more firm than she has ever heard him.

She blinked in surprise. "But you help him not fail!"

It was humorous how much denial Ulquiorra had over Grimmjow. Then again, they used to be rivals of power in Hueco Mundo. Their humanistic affiliations with each other probably still didn't sink in yet.

"I do not associate myself with fools. _He_ approaches _me—_ in order to insult me."

"But you help each other out, don't you?"

He glared at her.

"You're still friends, at least..."

His scowl deepened. "He is nowhere close to you."

She laughed. "I'm a special case, though, Ulquiorra-kun." In the midst of their playful banter, her hand had idly reached up to rest against his chest, where his Hollow hole once was. She didn't know exactly why she was so drawn to that part of his body, but maybe it had to do with a certain organ underneath.

Her giggles dying down, she found herself gazing adoringly at the area beneath her hand.

His heart was beating steadily.

In the quiet of the moment, Ulquiorra quickly gripped her chin. His hold on her was stern. But when he looked into her eyes, the hidden tenderness in them melted her into a lovesick puddle.

"What is this?" he asked her, suddenly serious.

"What is what?" she answered back. His liquid emeralds were full of questions. She could see herself in them, her expression reflecting her own inquiries.

"You and I," he elaborated, his baritone a tad softer. "What is this between us?"

Her heart thumped. Right. They didn't set... whatever this was. "What do you want it to be?" she countered.

"You should be the one to explain, Inoue," he muttered, his gaze shifting elsewhere. "You are the one with all of this emotional experience." He let go of her jaw.

She half-smiled from the irony. "You're wrong, Ulquiorra-kun," she said lightly. " _This_ is new to _me_."

His eyes snapped to hers again, curiosity in his serpentine greens. "Is that so? That is hard to believe. You are a true human."

Orihime bashfully casted her silver-gray gaze to the ground. "You make me feel things I've never felt before. Not even with Kurosaki-kun does my heart pound the way it does. It's light and heavy at the same time; both wonderful and frightening."

Interestingly, Ulquiorra seemed to concur. "These polarizing emotions, they are both painful and rejuvenating," he piped up thoughtfully. He was hiding a small smile of his own.

"Yup. It's really... beautiful in a way," she said, captivated by it.

Automatically, her hands found her way into his. As soon as she felt the warmth of his palms against her fingers, she blushed, especially when his powerful pair of green eyes met hers. Orihime didn't remember the last time her heart felt so whole.

"Inoue..." Ulquiorra murmured, bringing her closer. "... this gladdens me."

Her eyes widened slightly. "This gladdens you? You really feel happiness?"

" _You_ gladden me," he reworded seriously. "It should be obvious enough."

Orihime tilted her gaze downward, remembering back in her apartment, when he had asked her what she felt. She should have read him correctly. She had let the worst-case scenario get the best of her and warp her logic. Her personal demons had made the situation much more difficult. All along, it had been something so _simple_.

"Whatever you are thinking," he interjected softly. "It is the past. Is that not what you taught me?"

She nodded slowly. He was right.

The two stood in comfortable silence for another moment until Ulquiorra briefly squeezed her hands, as if to make sure she was still there.

"The day after tomorrow," he muttered absently.

Again, she nodded, but with more uncertainty. In two days, she would leave for Soul Society. She had gone into detail with him a little more earlier that day. It seemed to ease him a bit, but it didn't make him any happier.

Ever since his arrival, they had stood side-by-side, getting to know each other, letting their relationship blossom. This would be their first separation; the first time in a long time Orihime would feel the loneliness of not having _him_ within reach.

"I'm sure it will not take too long," he added, but he said it as though it was meant to reassure himself more than her. From the tiny trace of emotion in his voice, Orihime sensed that there was something more there than he let on.

 _Don't go_.

Ulquiorra gave no indication of such words, but through his heartbeats, she still heard them all the same.

"Yeah..." she responded in a small voice.

It was the only thing she could say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it looks like I've been obsessed with flashbacks, but I don't originally plan things to be that way... they just... happen and look right that way. I don't know if I'm explaining that right, but yeah.
> 
> P.S. Also, I've been into Korean pop music lately, and I've convinced myself that SNSD's Jessica in the "Tell Me Your Wish" era looks like a Korean version of what Orihime would look like in real life. XD
> 
> P.P.S. And for some reason, I imagine Ulquiorra listening to Muse. Or maybe that's because I've been listening to a lot of Muse while writing this. Especially since the title of the story consists of their lyrics. >.>
> 
> P. P. P. S. I've always thought that the Twelfth Division was not allowed to step foot into the living world, but the Bleach Wiki didn't say if it that was true. I could've sworn that was (correct me if I'm wrong, since it's been forever since I'd read/seen anything officially Bleach), so I went along with that idea, anyway.


	10. Mikazuki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being inseparable for such a long time, Ulquiorra and Orihime learn to do live apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Mikazuki" by Ayaka; "Be Still" by Kaskade

 

\- _{ crescent moon } -_

It was a cool day, almost sunset; Ulquiorra and Orihime were going to part ways outdoors.

And it was on this day that he learned dread.

He felt it with each passing hour until the two days were up. He didn't understand why being so attached to someone meant needing that presence—that little woman to always be within close range. He didn't understand the accompanying anxiety—always wondering what might happen, or what could go wrong while she was away.

Again, he condemned human emotion for being a waste of contemplation. But that kind of blame couldn't stop him from feeling them.

Along with the three former Espadas, all of the relevant nakama came; Rukia, Ichigo, and Yasutora were to accompany her, but Uryuu, true to his ways as Quincy, opted not to be involved in Soul Society business, but since he still cared about Orihime greatly, he still showed up to bid her farewell.

"Hey, Grimm-san," Orihime said, smiling up at the turquoise-haired man, "take care of Tia-san, okay?"

He was quick to cross his arms and scowl down at her. "That bitch can take care of herself."

"You know what I mean!" she argued playfully, but amended her words. "Then... just take care of yourselves and each other."

"Yes, you have been greatly involved in our conditioning to this world," Tia spoke up kindly with a respectful tilt of her head, purposely speaking up before Grimmjow could get another vulgar word in. "I thank you, but I'm sure we will survive."

"Cheesy-ass shit..." the tallest Resurrected grumbled, hardly a participant of emotional goodbyes. He sharply glanced at Orihime. "Just don't die over there, Princesa. Or I'll kill ya."

Ulquiorra glared at Grimmjow maliciously, but it was effortlessly ignored.

The healer laughed apprehensively. "Grimm-san, that's a weird thing to say..."

"I still don't quite understand their dynamic," Uryuu muttered skeptically from the side, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.

"No, but it's fun to watch," Rukia admitted with a small smile. Yasutora gave a nod of agreement.

Ichigo tsked, but to Ulquiorra, it didn't seem very condescending—not like how it used to be. The green-eyed man rationalized that the shinigami, the somewhat ringleader of Orihime's group of friends, had finally begun to accept his kind.

"Orihime-chan," said a new voice. "Are you ready?"

Ulquiorra suddenly looked past her shoulder and to the direction of the voice, acknowledging the new arrivals with a deep scowl and distrusting green eyes. "You," Ulquiorra ground out predatorily, even though it was imminent what was about to happen.

The shinigami lieutenants, Rangiku and Nemu, have arrived.

The strawberry blonde smirked a bit at his protectiveness. "Ulquiorra, trust me, you would rather have us take her back than, say, Kurotsuchi-taichou himself." Leaving him to silently fume, Rangiku turned to Orihime. "Ready?" she asked again.

Orihime looked at her accompanying nakama, who all nodded toward her. They were ready. "Yup," she answered Rangiku.

Ulquiorra didn't move, nor make any attempt to physically stop her. It would have been fruitless, anyway. But... "I want to go," he blurted out quietly before he could stop himself.

That too, was fruitless. "You're exiled," Rangiku replied within a heartbeat, tossing him a sympathetic look. "You aren't allowed to step foot in Soul Society; you know that."

"Even if I do not completely believe that she will be safe in Soul Society?" he questioned grimly. "Especially after what I know of the Twelfth Division's research department?"

Everyone looked at Nemu, expecting her to at least reply in defense of her captain's actions, but she didn't say anything.

It was not only the wavering trust in the Soul Society shinigami the former Cuatro had trouble swallowing, though; it was the fact that she was _leaving_. They had finally made amends, and further deepened the attachment they shared. Even though she wouldn't be gone for _that_ long, it would still feel empty without her next to him.

But because it was important to Soul Society, to all the worlds, and to Orihime herself, it must be done. He would never dream of intruding on a duty like that; he just wouldn't dare get in the way.

"I'm sorry," was all Rangiku could say to him, shrugging. "I don't have that kind of authority, Ulquiorra."

Near him, Orihime moved. "I shouldn't be gone long, I think," she told him, smiling. Her eyes, however, glistened with tears. "Don't worry about me, Ulquiorra-kun."

He broke his gaze and averted it elsewhere, where the sunset's blend of deep yellow and vivacious orange-red—a shade similar to Orihime's intriguing head of hair—tinted their surroundings.

He was suddenly unable to directly look at her. He knew his eyes were showing worry. He did not want to send her off with that kind of expression, but he did not know how to feign it.

Fortunately for him, she sensed this, and remained endearingly optimistic to compensate for his lack thereof. She held her hands out to him, covering one of his with both of hers. "I'll be okay, Ulquiorra-kun," she said brightly. "I'll be back safe and sound before you know it! Stronger than ever!"

With an unreadable look, Ulquiorra stared briefly at their clasped hands before grabbing her upper arm with his free one. She stumbled forward, but his body caught hers in a hug, his cheek against her head and her face against his shoulder.

He didn't care if the others were watching. Not at all. Let them pass judgment; this woman was _his_ to show such affection to.

"Be safe," he murmured into her ear.

He felt her tilt her head one way. And then, warm, supple lips pressed against his cheek.

It seemed like his heart missed a beat.

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, savoring the rapturous tingle of the brief, moist touch. He had come so far since he first came to Earth as a "human," no longer inquiring about emotions, but now expressing himself through them... _feeling_ them for himself. And it was all thanks to Inoue Orihime.

Night had fallen. The crescent moon was shining high in the sky, surrounded by countless twinkling stars. It was a night this beautiful when the portal opened up in front of them. The doorway within it swung open powerfully.

With a level gaze, he watched as Rangiku entered first, followed by Nemu. Sado tossed him an apologetic look before following suit. Ichigo, on the other hand, wasted none of his time.

Orihime was the last to leave, wordlessly pausing just behind the doorway to give him a long look, a mixture of sadness, hope, and something endearing he couldn't quite pin.

She stepped through. After a few seconds, the doorway and the portal both shut quietly behind her, as sudden as they had come.

She was gone.

\- { - } -

"I know what you've been doing."

Mayuri had been strolling along the Twelfth Squad barracks to his quarters, taking a much-needed rest after long hours of working, when he felt the presence of another captain approach him from behind. The _whoosh_ of the shunpo wasn't what initially caught his attention, though. It was the burning frostbite of the reiatsu surrounding him.

Mayuri remained calm, however. "Hitsugaya-kun," he greeted coolly. "What brings you all the way over here?"

"You let Nemu lead a bunch of Hollows into Karakura," the short, white-haired captain growled, the fists at his sides furling and unfurling in contained anger. "That was _not_ part of Yamamoto-soutaichou's orders. You put something in the pill to draw them to Inoue's reiatsu, didn't you? We don't need to involve the living world in our Hollow problems."

"Well, it doesn't help that these Hollows have minds of their own," the older shinigami answered easily. "They appear in the living world on their own terms."

"Also with your help." Toushiro leered at him suspiciously. "How many were over there?"

"Nothing those humans couldn't handle—I'm sorry, nothing that girl couldn't handle. She's still alive and well, isn't she?"

Toushiro wasn't reassured.

"Anyway, I'm done with that business in the living world," Mayuri continued, casually waving a hand dismissively. "Nemu has the data already. We just need to wait for her."

Toushiro's glare didn't waver from the other captain's face. "I'm sure Matsumoto would've been able to handle things without your intervention," he responded evenly.

"I doubt it. If it were anyone else, less time would've been taken worrying about what Inoue Orihime-chan thinks of this and feels about that," Mayuri commented, gesturing toward Toushiro knowingly.

"You'll get into trouble for what you did," Toushiro sputtered, ignoring what he was implying. "You know the rules about your division."

"You jest," Mayuri said. He seemed slightly surprised. "That ban over my division and the research department going to the living world has been lifted for a while."

"I'm sure it's for emergencies' sake."

"Yamamoto-soutaichou didn't specify. Anyway, I believe today is the day Inoue-chan comes to Soul Society. Let's be there to greet her and our lieutenants' return."

"Don't act so familiar with her," Toushiro snapped, noting the honorific. "You better have something useful for the societies of both our world and hers or else I'm sending you to the chopping block. I'm sure there are better-behaved captains out there."

With that, the white-haired captain wordlessly marched out of the Twelfth Division barracks.

\- { - } -

With Orihime having so many escorts, upon arrival in Soul Society as well as planned for her duties, Rukia was sure that no one would have minded if she broke away from the entourage for a while. It had been a long while since the petite young woman had been in Soul Society.

After visiting her older brother at the estate (and awkwardly consoling him after the loss of yet another koi fish), she made her way to the Thirteenth Division barracks, where her squadmates welcomed her back with open arms.

After dinner with them, she sat alone with her captain on the roof, together gazing at the night sky.

"Inoue Orihime-san seems to be adjusting well," Juushiro commented idly to his subordinate. "She seems more self-confident than the last time I saw her."

Rukia set her lips in a pursed line, immediately reminded of the Hollow invasion in Karakura just a few days ago, as well as off Orihime herself _―_ the look of uncharacteristic calm in the face of danger, the intense gray gaze of fortitude. Never has she seen the healer give off such a soldier-like ambience.

And to think, all this time, the dark-haired girl had always viewed her as a true pacifist.

"I guess..." she assented slowly.

Juushiro was quick to pick up on Rukia's uncertainty. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked with a quizzical blink.

"Taichou," she muttered, looking down at her drawn-up knees. "You heard about what happened, didn't you?"

"I did," Juushiro replied, looking a little more serious. "In the living world, correct?"

Rukia nodded, her violet irises darkening with unrest. "Looking at it from the distance, it was exactly like _that time_."

"..."

The next words were hard for her to say, but it was the only thing that stayed on her mind. That burning corrosion under the sphere of looming yellow, sometimes still haunted her, even now.

"The only things missing were the rest of us in it."

\- { - } -

Summer would soon be upon Ulquiorra and the others. It was apparently a time for vacations, water-related fun, and a new set of activities for the Resurrected to experience. Unluckily for him, Karakura was much hotter than anticipated, and this was coming from someone who used to live in a world full of desert.

Moreover, he found cicadas to be quite irritating. There must be dozens of them hiding in the trees surrounding his path home, which he was walking on at the moment.

He heard very little of Orihime; all of what he knew came solely from shinigami who came in and out of the living world (especially when there needed to be. Most currently, it was Ichigo who had returned from the other side. For him to have come back so soon must have meant that he had been causing too much mischief for Seireitei to take.

From the orange-haired teenager, Ulquiorra was mainly told of her safety and well-being. What had come next bothered him, however.

Orihime had gone to Hueco Mundo.

His stomach did so many flip-flops that he made himself a little sick, prompting Tessai and Ururu to give him soup—even in this weather—every lunch time for the rest of the week. He wasn't bed-ridden or even close to seriously ill, but both Kisuke and Yoruichi liked to think that he was too 'lovesick' to do anything... that or some other equally imbecilic reason.

Ulquiorra had told himself to move forward. His time as Espada was naught but a distant memory; something he was atoning for in his new life. And yet, it didn't stop him from regretting how he had acted toward Orihime while she was a prisoner. He also couldn't keep himself from remembering how obsessed he had been with beating up Ichigo in front of her, even after knowing how she had felt about him at the time. He was afraid of her remembering those things, on top of whatever she did at the end of the war. She was a strong person, but—

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, something mentally shook him: a flow of invasive, but familiar energy. He swallowed, knowing perfectly what disturbed his quiet, steady flow of reiatsu.

Somewhere behind and above him was the rip of a _garganta._

. .

_"Ulquiorra-kun!"_

Ulquiorra suddenly heard the screech of her voice, but was unable to respond.

It was an odd dream. He knew it was not a recollection of sorts, since it has never actually happened, but strange all the same.

_"Ulquiorra-kun! Can you hear me!"_

_Inoue... Orihime._ He had failed her, didn't he? That was what happened in this dream.

He did not have the strength to open his eyes.

_Why... am I so useless? Why can I not protect you?_

He could not see her; his eyes were closed. But he could feel her hair against his face, tickling his cheeks as she bent over him, along with a few warm drops of water. Considering the cloudless, starless night, he knew very well that it wasn't rain.

 _"Inoue,"_ he felt his lips form, but he could not breathe out anything audible. _"I'm... sorry..."_

_I could not properly—_

_"Oh, Ulquiorra-kun, please be gentle..."_

Wait a second. That didn't sound right.

_"I love you... Ulquiorra-kun."_

Why did the high-pitched voice of Orihime begin to sound like a male voice set in falsetto?

 _"Ulquiorra-kuuun, touch me in that special_ _place..."_

Suddenly awake, Ulquiorra's eyes flew open, his hand reflexively reaching out to grab the throat of the offending interferer of dreams at his bedside.

"UCKKK!" choked Grimmjow, his own hands instantly forcing Ulquiorra's arm away from his neck. After letting out a huge sigh as he regained his breathing, the blue-haired man leaned over Ulquiorra's bed angrily. "HEY! IS THAT WHAT YOU DO TO PEOPLE WHO ARE HERE TO VISIT YOUR DUMB ASS!"

"Your perverseness was not needed," was the even reply.

"I see that your strength is still intact," a calm feminine voice chimed in. Ulquiorra turned, and found Tia sitting in a chair at the corner of the room. Her arms crossed, she looked on in amusement as the two boys reunited.

"GOD! I was just trying to have a bit of fun!" Grimmjow retorted, rubbing his throat. "Not my fault this bastard takes La Princesa too seriously!"

"Perhaps you would like me to beat sense into you about respecting Inoue Orihime."

"THOSE ARE SOME FIGHTIN' WORDS, BATSHIT!"

The door of the room slid open, revealing a pissed-off Ichigo in street clothing, and right behind him, a brawly, dark-haired man in a doctor's coat.

"KEEP IT DOWN, YOU ASSHOLES!" Ichigo raged. "YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONES IN THE CLINIC!"

How ironic that the orange-haired teen himself couldn't keep his own voice at a lower volume.

"That's no way to talk to a patient, Ichigo!" piped up the doctor figure, attempting to punch Ichigo from behind, only to be easily, and nonchalantly, dodged with a quick tilt of the head. Nonplussed, the older man turned to Ulquiorra, winking as he pointed a thumb at himself. "I'm Dr. Kurosaki Isshin, this little punk's dad! You're under my care!"

Ulquiorra nodded slowly, but that wasn't the highest priority in his mind, as his alert, emerald eyes discreetly darted around the room for a notably missing presence. "Inoue—"

"Huh, you actually called her by her name," Ichigo remarked sarcastically.

"You must have hit your head hard," Tia said. At Ulquiorra's confused expression, she raised an eyebrow. "She is in Soul Society, remember?"

 _Oh..._ "Of course," Ulquiorra answered quietly.

He missed her.

Isshin performed some quick check-ups on Ulquiorra, mainly on the bandaging around his head. Then, with a brief nod, he began to make his way out. "I'll let you kids take care of things," he said, and closed the door behind him.

"So, do you want my version of the story, or Tia's?" Ichigo asked him immediately after his father left the room. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want Grimmjow's."

"I heard that, shithead," broke in a tough, threatening voice.

Ulquiorra glared at Ichigo quietly.

The shinigami made a _tch_ sound under his breath. "And to think Inoue would've taught you how to lighten up." He motioned toward Grimmjow with his chin. "For once, I agree with Grimmjow here about you."

The former Sexta, who had cursed Ichigo out seconds ago, smirked. Apparently, he was quite easy to please. "Damn straight!"

Great.

Ulquiorra turned to look at Tia and waited for her to begin speaking.

She nodded and smirked. "Well, to put it simply..."

. .

 _"You didn't have to follow me, bastards!" Ichigo was yelling at Grimmjow and Tia as the three ran toward the Menos Grande Hollow that appeared near the high school. "Most people without powers run_ away _from these things!"_

_"I wanted to see this in action!" Grimmjow protested. "I never get to see shit like this! Ya finally come back from Soul Society and—"_

_"It might get attracted to your reiatsu, dumbass!" Ichigo turned to Tia. "And why the hell are you here, too?"_

_"_ _I craved company."_

_"Who knew ex-Hollows could be so dependent?" he grumbled as he unsheathed his zanpakutou._

_With a surprised gasp, he stopped, his sword frozen next to his head. His fiery brown gaze had focused sharply—like a pointing arrow—toward the familiar figure standing there, still and anticipatory in front of three Hollows._

_"Ulquiorra?" Tia spoke up, echoing the puzzlement of the two boys with her._

_"D-Does he even know how much danger he's in!" Ichigo stammered, suddenly confused. The Hollows didn't attack him, and Ulquiorra, obviously unarmed, didn't try to move. But actually, it didn't seem like he even knew what to do._

_"Well, what are you waiting for!" Grimmjow yelled at Ichigo. "You're a fucking shinigami!"_

_Just then, one of the Hollows swung a limb. Swiftly, Ulquiorra ducked his head, letting the Hollow's arm slam into the brick wall behind him._

_"At least the guy's fast!" Ichigo remarked as he sprinted to the scene._

_As the wall began to crumble, Ulquiorra moved to dodge the falling debris. But unfortunately, he found himself in the wrong direction, as a part of the wall whipped past his head._

_Everyone watched dubiously as the newly unconscious Ulquiorra fell flat on his face._

_"And... I take that back," the shinigami immediately said afterward.  
_

_"Oh, come on!" Grimmjow groaned, slamming his palm against his face. "Really?"_

_. ._

Ulquiorra made no expression. He didn't say anything, either. Tia remained poker-faced as well, waiting on his reaction.

It was Grimmjow who broke the silence. With guffawing. Followed by Ichigo.

Ulquiorra bunched up parts of his sheets into his fists. "You _must_ be lying," he muttered, his voice thin with deadly anger. "My head does not even hurt."

Even Tia was holding back a chuckle. "I will make sure neither of them tell Inoue-san," she reassured him. "In any case, you just had a stroke of bad luck. It was no fault of yours."

Nonetheless, it was embarrassing—only the more useless he appeared to Orihime. He didn't want the girl to only keep him safe; he wanted to return that favor ten-fold. It was the least he could do; the very, _very_ least. Even now, he still felt a large amount of regret. Saying sorry and learning to empathize with human beings would never be enough.

The blonde noticed his inner turmoil. "Don't worry," she told him patiently. "It's summer. The three of us have plenty of time now to train and build our sword skills back up."

At least one person around him was optimistic for his sake. Grimmjow and Ichigo, on the other hand...

"I can't believe Batshit just failed like that!"

"And to think! This same dude fired away about _despair_ back in Las Noches!"

... seemed to get along just fine because of his misery.

\- { - } -

The Twelfth Division had decided that, since loosening all of Orihime's power at once could almost kill her like it did during the war, they would instead make her reinforce everything in increments and sections.

Hueco Mundo was as dreary as Orihime remembered it, and every step she made in the cool grains of sand made her heart beat harder with anxiety. She was in the very place of her nightmares, both in real life and in her dreams. The mixture of those memories and various fabrications replayed throughout her mind; things that didn't even provide her the answers she wanted. She didn't know why the moon was watching her so ominously, taunting her with secrets she couldn't reach for, nor why the incoming breezes were warning her of her past.

With Orihime were Nemu, to record data, and Rangiku, Renji, Yasutora, and Rukia as escorts. There were still Hollows running rampant across Hueco Mundo, after all. Orihime needed to be tightly guarded and remain absolutely uninterrupted when she did her thing.

While she was only accompanied by Nemu when she did it in Soul Society, having more people with her—people who seem to know more about the _shishun_ more than the owner of the power herself, was intimidating. The teenage girl knew there was something about it that scared Rukia. It was still a glaring, yet untouchable question between the nakama.

As for her Shun Shun Rikka fairies, they were _not_ happy. Between the last time they appeared spontaneously to her and now, the tension between her and them has escalated. Orihime rationalized that it was because they were practically forced out of their plans to keep her oblivious. But gone were the words of encouragement and gentle suggestions, and in came the awkward silences, the obligatory cooperation; the fairies were slaves and Orihime was their master. She hated thinking that way, but unfortunately, it was how she felt. Still, she knew that she had to push it out of her mind.

"Orihime-chan?" Rangiku spoke up, putting a hand on the healer's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah," she answered distractedly. "I think."

The lieutenant exchanged a worried look with Rukia and Yasutora.

The desert felt empty, but she knew there were Hollows everywhere—they were just hiding and waiting for prey like them. She absently looked down at her feet, almost expecting a giant sandworm of a Hollow to burst through.

 _This shouldn't have happened,_ she suddenly found herself thinking as she stared at the white sand.

But she didn't know why.

"Inoue-san," Nemu spoke up monotonously, holding on to a clipboard. "Please come this way. Our destination is approximately fifteen feet."

_This shouldn't have happened._

Renji tsked, already bored. He folded his arms behind his head, resting them against the curve of his ponytail. "Why does this suddenly feel like a fucked up research experiment?"

The others moved, but Orihime was too caught up in these mystifying thoughts.

_I have to bring them back! I have to get them back! Please, Hougyoku! Save them! Save them all!_

Orihime gasped to herself, breaking into a sweat, her body shivering and hot with her activated powers. It was as if she was channeling the exact same emotions she had during that fuzzy time.

_I need them back! I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE!_

Her head ached sharply, and the pins burned against her scalp. Orihime to put her hands against her head, whimpering softly.

"Oi, oi!" Renji suddenly cried, alarmed. "You feel her reiatsu? She's freaking out right now!"

"Orihime!" she heard Rukia call to her. "What's wrong?"

Yasutora frowned. "She might be remembering something."

Rangiku looked like she wanted to get near, but didn't. Instead, she and the others backed away a few steps. "Orihime-chan," she called in a gentle tone. "It's okay..."

It didn't work. Orihime could only hear the silent ringing of her shield and feel its powerful heat. She could only see mixtures of white and yellow and flashes of broken memories.

_Her surroundings in Las Noches, even the very room she stood in, encased within the yellow dome, suddenly disintegrated, fading away as if it were a mere sand castle being away by a strong wind—_

_—His hand was within reach. If only she could touch it—_

_—"Fushokuten Shishun! I REJECT!"—_

_—"NOOOO! BRING EVERYTHING BACK!"—_

"Ulquiorra-kun!" she found herself screaming, suddenly desperate for the safety of his arms. Frightened tears made their way to her eyes. "Make it stop!"

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra normally didn't initiate anything with the people he lived with, Grimmjow in particular. It wasn't that he disliked any of them—he has grown accustomed to the shop's residents, but he usually locked himself in his room as they all have a knack for really irritating him. Especially Grimmjow. He was sure they did it on purpose. Why else would he spend so much time with Orihime?

One day, however, the green-eyed male was the one to knock on Grimmjow's door.

The door slid open promptly. When Grimmjow saw who it was, he gave him a wary look. "Surprised to see ya here. Whaddya want?"

"I have a minor request."

"Oh, yeah? Shoot."

Ulquiorra shifted his gaze to the ground. "At this moment, Inoue Orihime is fixing Soul Society and Hueco Mundo, and at the same time, strengthening her own capabilities as the Hougyoku continues to reside within her. I think I should do the same—that is, in my own way." He finally looked back up at Grimmjow. "Let us train."

Grimmjow's reactive smile was a little on the cruel side, faintly reminiscent of his violent cockiness as Espada. "You could'a explained all that in two words, but you're on." He stepped out of his bedroom. "I'm sure Tia would wanna get in on this shit, too. Loser fights her."

"She would not like hearing you say that," Ulquiorra remarked, straight-faced, and turned to other thoughts.

 _Inoue,_ Ulquiorra called out silently as the two headed to the training grounds. _I will do my fair share of the protecting... I will make you proud of me as I am of you._

He felt Grimmjow's eyes on him, observing him with amusement.

Ulquiorra glanced at him expressionlessly. "What?"

He didn't know exactly what kind of emotion Grimmjow was trying to convey, but it was unusually mild; not mocking by any means. "You really love the chick, don'tcha?" the former Sexta said.

"... Love? Is that what it is?" Ulquiorra didn't know why he was asking Grimmjow, out of all people. It was a question he wasn't sure even Orihime could answer had she been there with them.

He shrugged. "Dunno. I just know you got a heart in there somewhere," Grimmjow replied. "What's it doin' right now?"

"It's beating," he answered dully.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed groan. "Holy _balls_ , Batman! No shit! I mean, when you think of her, does it beat fast? Hard? To the point you can hear it in your ears?"

Ulquiorra paused, raising a hand to his chest. "... Yes."

"Does it hurt now that she ain't with you?"

He closed his emerald green orbs, sighing softly. "It does," he responded truthfully.

_Orihime._

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at him, examining his expression. "You're thinking about her this very second, aren't ya?"

"..."

"Mull over shit from the past all you want, Ulquiorra. Continue to hold grudges, even. But the most important thing..." He slapped his hand against his housemate's shoulder dramatically, "is that you love La Princesa, right here and right now."

Ulquiorra scowled at him. "What makes you think I still mull over—"

"Because we _all_ still think about it," Grimmjow cut in, strangely serious. "Our past is always in the back'a our minds, chasing us..."

He looked off distantly. "The _pantera_ side of me still laughs at me, ya know. In my sleep. Tellin' me I should be king; that I wasn't meant to be some _lowly_ human wannabe... that I should devour everyone and fuck over the living world." He laughed, but it was grim. "I couldn't even if I wanted to—which I don't."

Ulquiorra had no idea that any of that was happening with Grimmjow. His own dreams, in comparison, were _normal_. All of his concerns took place in reality, and had to do with his relationship with Orihime. He was able to move on quite efficiently, but the normally stubborn Grimmjow, on the other hand, didn't have as easy of a time. It was weird, seeing his rival in a new light.

"You are done with that kind of way of life," he concluded quietly.

"Tch, I guess you can put it like that," Grimmjow said. For the first time, Ulquiorra saw true happiness reflected in his complacent light blue depths; plainly colored, but crisp like the sky. "To be honest, I like it here." His words were strangely soft, the jagged roughness in his voice smudged.

And the smile that suddenly appeared; it was a rare sight that Ulquiorra found both alarming and visually arresting.

He hid the smirk that threatened to stretch across his face; he wasn't ready to openly show that he was happy for his housemate, out of all people. "As do I."

"Oi, I think we just had our first—what do they call it? Oh, heart-to-heart."

It should have struck Ulquiorra with horror; what was he doing, having a deep, conversation about feelings with the volatile Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez, who at one point in time, had even less empathy than Ulquiorra himself ever did? Did the two of them really go from hating each other as Espadas to being classmates at a human school, and housemates on top of that?

It should have been insulting, an embarrassing downward spiral in pride, yet somehow, it wasn't the case. Ulquiorra realized that he really had nothing against Grimmjow anymore. His annoyances with him were only minor things nowadays. Maybe Orihime had been correct about his relationship with the man.

"I suppose you are right, Grimm—" Suddenly, he stopped, and darted hard, narrowed emerald eyes to somewhere behind him.

"What's your problem?"

And then, there was nothing.

Ulquiorra blinked. That was strange. He thought he heard Orihime scream for him, but he supposed it was just his imagination. He really needed to stop thinking of her so much... "None of your concern," he said indifferently, and moved on.

\- { - } -

"Shit... shit!" Renji exclaimed in a panic. He turned to Rukia. "The fuck do we do? That Espada ain't here!"

"Quick! Pretend to be Ulquiorra!" was the shortest shinigami's solution.

"ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH!" Renji screamed at her. "TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY!"

"I AM SERIOUS!" Rukia made a sidelong glance at Yasutora, who made a hesitant grunt and discreetly backed away. "Just be some male figure and hug her or something!" she argued urgently. "She's too far gone to know the difference right now."

"But then, afterward? She won't like it!"

"How would you know! I'm pretty sure she'd be understanding about it!"

Nemu, meanwhile, had a simpler idea. Throughout her allies' frantics, she has not said anything. But since she has done her research on Orihime's Hougyoku fusion, she already know what the problem was, and therefore, its fastest, most efficient solution, given their time crunch.

Rangiku watched her skeptically. "Nemu?"

With one swift move, Twelfth Division lieutenant unsheathed her zanpakutou, as rare as the appearance of it was. The _shing_ of metal quieted down the arguing shinigami, who both swiveled their gazes toward her.

"What...?" Renji wondered dubiously.

Just then, Nemu fluidly made a swipe at Orihime. A small tear appeared in one sleeve of the shinigami robes she borrowed from Soul Society.

As well as a shallow, but bleeding gash.

"You cut her!" Renji yelled, his mouth falling open. He stared at Nemu as if she had gone insane. "The hell, Nemu!"

"Abarai-san?"

Everyone turned to Orihime. All of them, with the exception of Nemu, seemed surprised that she had come to, just like that, blinking blankly back into reality. She looked down at her arm, her fingers hovering over her new cut. "Ow... w-what happened?"

"Oh..." Rukia said dumbly. "She's back to normal."

"Nemu woke you out of your trance," Rangiku explained to Orihime uncertainly. "You were having some sort of, I don't know, memory attack, I guess."

"She only needed to be woken up, and I thought a sting of pain would have been able to do that," Nemu replied mechanically. "It was the fastest thing I could think of. If she continued like that, she would waste energy—which should be saved for the barriers."

Orihime put a hand against her cut, but didn't heal it. "Sorry," she muttered, not looking at her companions. "I don't know what came over me. A lot of the surroundings here just seem to provoke these... things..."

The healer's gray eyes stayed on the sand as she added, "I can't let them stop me."

"It must be hard," Rukia chimed in softly.

"It is," Orihime admitted with a humorless smile. For a second, she looked much more mature than her age suggested: she had eyes that saw too much and a heart that felt a colorful array of things."And I don't think it ever gets easier."

She blushed, turning her face away shyly. "But... there's someone waiting for me back home. I can't let him down."

Rangiku smiled supportively. "Of course not."

\- { - } -

"Yoruichi."

"Hm?" The cat-formed shinigami lifted her head off her paws to glance at Kisuke, who was busy lounging and fanning himself on one warm day.

"After this barrier thing is all over," he drawled contemplatively. "Do you think we'll be at peace?"

Yoruichi scoffed at him. "You're a master scientist and you still ask these kinds of questions?"

"I just want _your_ opinion."

"Well, in balance," Yoruichi said easily, albeit somberly, "there will always be conflict."

Kisuke chuckled. "Then... poor Soul Society and our humans here, yeah?"

"You don't seem worried at all," the cat noted, her tail wagging curiously.

The shop owner shrugged. "I'm confident in everyone." He began to count off the regular group of heroes with his free hand. "Kurosaki-kun is a powerful Vizard with an equally powerful passion. Rukia-chan's power goes way beyond her rank in the Thirteenth Squad—beyond lieutenant level, even. Her perseverance is admirable.

"Ishida-kun's the last Quincy, but he takes much pride in that—and it shows greatly in his impressive skill. Sado-kun has improved exponentially since the war, and has made his powers truly his own. He exhudes such a strong aura—I see him as the pillar, the overall strength of his nakama."

He smiled. "And Orihime-chan... simply put, she a human god, and the _heart_ of everyone in the group. I mean, her healing capabilities were initially a result of her love and concern for her friends, ne? With those powers, she takes care of those around her, and she seems more than happy to do so. Another admirable thing about her is her willingness to forgive her enemies. It could be seen as something too passive from anyone else, but coming from her, it's definitely an interesting form of strength."

Kisuke looked quite proud of the spiel the he was finished. He turned confidently at his feline companion.

Yoruchi, however, was not amused by his poetry. "Where do you come up with these things?"

"Observation," he said cheerfully. "It's my favorite kind of research, Yoruichi."

"Clearly." She paused. "Well, what's your point with what you asked in the first place? Do you think something will happen?"

"The shinigami would be out of a job if something didn't."

\- { - } -

Traveling back and forth between Hueco Mundo and Soul Society was getting to be annoying, but Orihime had no choice but to deal with it.

The days were repetitive, but at least fixing barriers wasn't the only thing she ended up dealing with. Orihime found the Twelfth Division to be an unusual—albeit shaky—ally. Its approach to research warranted new ideas and new theories, and her situation was no exception to it.

Mayuri may have put an amplifier on her arm (a metal band that boosts the power of the Hougyoku within her), a pill in her stomach, and Hollows on her tail, but his research division knew the implications of her powers better than even Kisuke did. It allowed her to explore her abilities during training, to strengthen and refine what was within her. And of course, being in Hueco Mundo gave her ample practice time.

However, she was in Soul Society at the moment. She was only in the company of Nemu, and their surroundings were much more colorful and safer, full of much better vibes than Hueco Mundo. The threat of using her shield the way she did was no longer a scary notion, and she felt much more relaxed.

At the moment, a yellow veil filtered the clear blue sky above her, giving it a hue of green she truly didn't think was as beautiful as a certain favorite shade of hers, but was reminiscent of it all the same.

Behind her, the ever-present Nemu chimed in with a, "Time's up; thank you," and checked off something on her clipboard. "Day Ten: complete."

Promptly, Orihime's shield vanished in a blink of an eye. And with a loud, relieved sigh, she flopped onto her back. Her body, still hot from all the energy she had used up, gratefully accepted the feel of the cool viridian grass against her back, the soft blades lightly tickling the exposed skin on her limbs.

Exhaustion was quick to creep over her. Nemu, sensing as much, bowed to Orihime and left—probably to report to Mayuri himself.

She didn't think of much as she stared upward. There were hardly any clouds that day in Soul Society, so there wasn't much to look at except for that light blue.

Idly, she extended one arm and let her hand touch the sky, laying a palm against it as if laying it against something solid.

She closed her eyes serenely.

Just on the other side was probably Earth, where her life was.

Where Ulquiorra was.

She smiled to herself, just imagining his abysmal green eyes and his deep, authoritative voice. She could almost feel his hand against hers as she continued to float there, warm and safe. She could almost hear his words, her name on his tongue, enunciated smoothly like silk.

She missed him.

"Ulquiorra-kun," she whispered to the sky beyond her hand.

\- { - } -

"Ulquiorra-kun~!"

Ulquiorra was definitely sick of people calling out his name, especially for trivial things. For some reason, he was garnering more attention from his fellow living-world residents lately. He didn't know if it was because Orihime was not around to fill their share of him, or if it was because they were just annoying him on purpose.

"Ulqui-kunnnn~!"

The green-eyed man gritted his teeth, staring harder at his book than he ever did. He was not going to respond.

"Ulqui-kun~. Come out~!"

Finally deciding to respond, his footsteps made irritated tromps on the tatami floor as he made his way across it. He slid the door open with enough force to tear it off (which didn't happen, thankfully). "What," he growled to a foolishly grinning Kisuke.

"I want to show you three something," the former captain said animatedly, patting his open fan against his prickly chin.

"Must it be now, Urahara Kisuke?"

"You know, I'd feel a little more loved if you called me Otousan or—"

" _Must it be now_ , Urahara Kisuke?" Ulquiorra repeated more pointedly. His emerald-colored eyes narrowed with threat.

"It's a beautiful day today, so yes," Kisuke answered. "Come now. Tia-chan and Grimm-kun are waiting outside the shop."

Reluctantly, Ulquiorra followed the shop owner outside, casting his fellow Resurrecteds a sharp, questioning look. But it seemed that they didn't know what Kisuke was up to, either.

They grudgingly followed their guardian to an open clearing. It was bright green and empty.

"Now what?" Grimmjow sighed boredly.

"Watch and..." Kisuke began grandly, lifting his fan above his head, and then unexpectedly stopped. "—well, just watch."

Suddenly, the ground whirred.

_Whirred? What an ill-fitted sound—_

His thoughts were cut off when a blinding light surrounded them, filling his sight with nothing but white. Ulquiorra covered his eyes with his arm.

Seconds later, it was gone. Now he, Tia, Grimmjow and Kisuke were surrounded by a bright blue.

_The sky?_

Cautiously, the green-eyed male turned his attention to his feet. He was standing, perfectly balanced, but there was nothing below his feet but more sky and the ground at a great distance.

"Ta-da!" Kisuke cheered, gesturing around him. "Magic!" He looked at the moderately surprised looks of the three. "Well, I suppose my technology helped, too, since none of you have enough power to do this anymore. Especially not in your gigais."

Tia seemed be lost in thought, absently staring across the endless blue. "This is..."

He understood her sentiments. It had, indeed, been a long time since Ulquiorra and the others had enough power to stand in the clouds. The view was as splendid as it was nostalgic.

"Lovely view, ne?" Kisuke remarked. He took a few steps around them, as if the air itself was the ground everyone walked on every day; ground that they could see through like crystal-clear glass.

"Well, what are we doing here?" Grimmjow wondered, crossing his arms suspiciously. "Just lookin' at clouds?"

"If you don't like it up here, we won't be long," Kisuke said. "I just wanted to show you, particularly Ulqui-kun, something."

Ulquiorra's head perked up slightly at the mention of his name.

Their guardian touched an area above him. "You can't see or tangibly feel this, but in terms of energy, maybe you can sense how much tougher this barrier is." He smiled. "A special young lady has been conscientiously doing her part."

Ulquiorra unconsciously found his fingers skimming the sky above him, as if doing so would be like caressing Orihime herself. "I see," he murmured thoughtfully.

_Inoue. Orihime._

"God, you whipped piece of—"

"Grimmjow, let him be," Tia quickly admonished.

Obedient as always to their female counterpart, Grimmjow fell into an irritated silence, and then glanced downward. The look on his face went from his typical annoyance with the blonde to something more dispirited.

Ulquiorra had a feeling he knew why. The view from the sky was familiar, reminiscent of times past, watching the living world as a cruel Espada. Ulquiorra's feet walking on air reminded him of the battles he had gone through, the people he had killed, and a certain little woman he had captured.

"Is this... what they call _deja vu_?" Tia wondered softly.

Grimmjow's lips twisted into a thoughtful frown. "Nah," he replied, his voice strangely glum. "If it was _deja vu_ , it would'a have to have never happened."

With those words in mind, Ulquiorra briefly closed his eyes.

He suddenly didn't like standing among the clouds, no matter how gorgeous the blue was.

\- { - } -

A week later, it was back to Hueco Mundo once again for Team Orihime.

Rukia was proud to say that mentally, Orihime was shaping up; she had been able to enter the Hollow world without having nervous breakdowns. Sometimes, she would even have a ghost of a smile on her face, being randomly in an optimistic, determined mood. Of course, it was better than any emotional collapse that resulted in releasing bad, bad things.

The shinigami found herself humming as she lifted the flap to her and Orihime's tent.

"Ah, Kuchiki-san!" Orihime greeted cheerfully. "Back again so soon?"

Rukia frowned curiously. "Back?" This was the first time she had appeared in the tent in a while, perhaps since they woke up. "Since when?"

"Eh?" the healer blinked. "You just came in around..." she did some mental calculations, "... an hour ago... right?"

That was fishy.

Rukia didn't add anything for the moment, but she was definitely sure that she hadn't appeared to Orihime that recently. Additionally, the tent was small, and Orihime had perfect vision. Misrecognizing a face wouldn't have been the kind of mistake she would make.

"Was the reiatsu signature the same?" she questioned with narrowed violet eyes. "Was it really mine?"

Orihime gave her a similarly wary look. "If it wasn't, I wouldn't have thought..." She paused thoughtfully. "Hm, I guess we should keep our guard up."

Rukia nodded, craning her neck to look outside, to skeptically examine the deceptively empty sands. "Indeed..."

Something was afoot.

 


	11. Crossfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She returns home, but not everything is resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "No Crime" by Shanadoo (or CxF); "Resistance" by High and Mighty Color; "Hanabi" by Ikimonogakari

 

 

_\- { okaeri } -_

Green eyes laid suspiciously on dark blue as a figure approached the training grounds, the newcomer calm and dignified. Always proud.

"Ishida Uryuu," Ulquiorra acknowledged plainly from the steps.

"Cifer-san," the Quincy scoffed airily, adjusting his frames against his nose. "Or rather, Shihaku-senpai."

The two of them hardly ever talked. And when they did, the Quincy never had anything positive to say. They were as awkward as ever, but Ulquiorra doubted it would be fixed anytime soon. They didn't have a thing in common—maybe except for one thing.

"You are here for her," Ulquiorra said, studying the underclassman.

"You are, too," Uryuu pointed out, somewhat bitterly. "I'm surprised the other two Resurrected aren't here, as well."

"I actually do not have an answer for that," Ulquiorra admitted. "I'm not sure where they are now."

Uryuu actually smirked. "Figures. They're more free-spirited than you are, after all."

They fell silent. Ulquiorra watched as the one with glasses stood far away from him. The green-eyed man furrowed a brow. "I did not know my presence was that contagious," he commented humorlessly.

Uryuu merely shrugged.

Ulquiorra wished Orihime would hurry up. This was overbearing...

Hoping to dispel such an uncomfortable feeling, he decided to get out of his comfort zone and initiate conversation. "Your skin is abnormally red," he said flatly.

"..."

Maybe he was the one coming off as awkward.

"Well, I spent too much time outside training," Uryuu finally answered unenthusiastically.

"Is it not that human skin has its limit with sun exposure? Perhaps you may get sunburned, or in the worst case scenario, eventually develop a malignant form of skin can—"

"I know that stuff already, idiot!" Uryuu butted in crossly, glowering at him. "I just... went a little over my limit, that is all." He embarrassedly ducked his head and adjusted the bridge of his glasses.

Silence again.

Definitely; this heightened tension in the air was Ulquiorra's own fault.

\- { - } -

_"Orihime!" Rukia shouted, her eyes round like saucers as she spotted some coming at her. "Behind you!"_

_The redhead barely managed to put up a shield behind her. Her deflect from successful, she moved out of the way in order for some of her groupmates to tag themselves in._

_"Che!" Renji cried, stopping beside Rukia as he prepared to charge. "What a dick to catch us when Inoue's at her weakest and when we're not fucking—"_

_He immediately shut up, noticing an attack diving at them from above. He and Rukia both leaped out of the way in opposing directions, a golden yellow_ tentacle _made of energy slapping against the area of sand they had just been in._

_Just as the two dodged, Rangiku rushed forth, heedless of the consequent flying sand. "Growl, Haineko!" she yelled quickly. With a flick of her free hand, ashes darker than the sand surrounding them rose up in front of her. Like a swarm, they formed into a swirling cylindrical form around the Hollow._

_"I hope I have him," she murmured to Nemu, who was standing next to her. While Rangiku liked to think of Mayuri's lieutenant and 'daughter' as deadweight, she had a feeling that she was actually taking in information from the enemy. After all, this Hollow was different from the others they have fought in the past—Arrancars and Espadas included._

_The running form of Yasutora sped past the females and mutely took to defending an open side opposite of the strawberry blonde. Orihime took another corner, thus forming a triangle around the ash-trapped Hollow. The other two shinigami stood nearby at the ready._

_"I'd like to see you try and get out of this one," Rangiku challenged the Hollow. She moved her wrist again, ready to kill, but something unexpected happen._

_Without her even controlling it, her whirlwind of Haineko's ash moved, widening its perimeter and thinning it out like smoke dissolving into the air. Under it was a yellow dome that didn't belong to Orihime._

_"W-What!" the aformentioned girl cried out, clearly astonished._

_However, the kicker was who was inside. Rangiku could have sworn that the Hollow had a completely different appearance—actually looking like a Hollow—unless..._

_"Shapeshifter," Nemu classifed quietly. "Vasto Lorde class, and somehow with powers similar to Inoue Orihime-san's."_

_Bingo._

_Yet it wasn't at the forefront of Rangiku's mind. Her grip of Haineko's hilt weakened, her hand lowering defenselessly to her side. Her light blue eyes widened in astonishment._

_Only one word managed to escape her lips. "Gin..."_

_There was no mistaking the light-colored hair, the secretive smile, the lean, but strong physique. In addition, she felt his reiatsu move around; it too shapshifting into his._

_"Don't fall for it, Matsumoto-fukutaichou!" Rukia yelled. "Ichimaru's dead!"_

_Rangiku gritted her teeth. As hard as it was, the shorter shinigami was right._

_Orihime extended a hand in front of her and underhandedly shot Tsubaki forward, the ring of energy around him forming a razor-sharp disc. Successfully, it cut through the shield, but not centered enough to hit the Hollow himself._

_The fake Gin smiled, his expression secretive and fox-like, as it had always been, painfully familiar to the woman who once saw him as a special friend. "Guess it ain't a good shot."_

Pang.

_Even his voice was the same._

_Rangiku's occupied hand shook, her tight grip on Haineko making her knuckles white. Her emotional wounds were still raw._

_Her companions stood vigilantly, but did not immediately move; it would do no good to underestimate the Hollow._

_The Gin-lookalike stepped forward, toward Rangiku. He didn't speak anymore. It seemed that he was expecting her to cower in his presence, to hesitate in the midst of battle._

_But she didn't want to be the one to do so. She had been so strong during the Winter War, and if she dared hold back now, what would it say about her bravery?_ Especially _against someone who mocked her memory of the Gin she knew?_

_She moved her hand, but just as she was about to make another jab, Orihime beat her to it, firing Tsubaki at the Hollow from behind._

_The Gin lookalike turned his head slightly, easily deflecting the attack with fast-forming shield. "You're goin' easy on me," he noted with interest._

_Rangiku could spot the small glint of puzzlement in the girl's eyes. How could the Hollow have known something like that?_

_"If you wanna kill me, you're gonna hafta try harder."_

_"Bastard..." Renji growled. He looked like he was a few seconds away from calling his shikai._

_Orihime stretched out both hands with a determined glare. She summoned Tsubaki again, but this time, with an additional amount of energy that made the air around them get more dense. The sparkling aura around Tsubaki expanded, like a fireball gathering more flames._

_The Hollow smirked._

_She released._

_"Too slow," he said, and pointed a finger at her. His concentration was interrupted, however, when the sand around him suddenly flew up, blocking his vision. It was as if someone had punched the sandy ground for that very effect—which was, of course, courtesy of Yasutora._

_The brief move gave Orihime enough leeway to do what she meant to do. "Fall back, Tsubaki-kun!" she shouted. The fairy promptly veered off to the side._

_With haste, Orihime set up her own shield around the doppleganger. Rangiku realized that she had not summoned the three fairies in charge of her protective one—there weren't any involved. The present dome rather than a single-plane barricade should have immediately told her as much._

_The Hollow grinned darkly. "This is more like it," he muttered, his voice muffled by the hum of his prison._

_"I don't think he'll be able to get out," Orihime said with slight strain, ignoring him. The skirmish, on top of her assigned duty, had her doubly tired, and it showed in her narrowed gray eyes as they scanned the Hollow. "So now, I can..." Her voice trailed off._

_Rangiku knew what she meant._

Use the Fushokuten Shishun.

_Her gaze flitted from Orihime to the fake Gin. The Hollow was definitely keeping a close eye on her, even if he was masking it. He seemed quite unthreatened._

_And yet, one thing remained on her mind._

_If he had appeared after Orihime's incident, the real Ichimaru Gin should have already been dead, and therefore, have never seen him. Likewise, it wouldn't have been possible for a highly-evolved Hollow to have survived the aformentioned event; Orihime was only able to reject so much at that time before falling into a near-death state._

_How did he know who Gin was?_

\- { - } -

Orihime met the familiar sight of the Urahara Shouten underground training area as soon as she stepped out of the portal.

If she calculated time correctly, it was July. She had no idea what the exact date was, but it became the last thing on her mind as her soft gray eyes quickly landed on the crystal emerald ones in front of her.

Ulquiorra had been leaning against a rock and quickly straightened when she arrived. He looked every bit as attractive as she remembered, and it rendered her motionless, her feet rooted from the sheer disbelief that _he_ was standing there waiting for her.

"Inoue," he greeted quietly. He sounded calm enough, but as he observed her carefully, he had an expression of awe that was only slightly more controlled than her own.

"Ulquiorra-kun," she whispered in a dreamy sigh, and finally moved. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes as she practically ran the rest of the distance to him, pouncing on him and eagerly throwing her arms around his neck.

She had missed him sorely. The loneliness she felt in Soul Society and Hueco Mundo was far away now, a distant feeling she won't ever miss again.

He folded his arms across her back, leaving no space between them as he held her. His embrace felt like home, full of affection transcending both his and her emotional knowledge. And there was nowhere she would rather be.

She lifted her head a bit from his shoulder and tilted toward him. Their noses touched briefly, and naturally, her face angled in.

"I'm back," she breathed fondly, and let her soft lips brush lightly against his. Even with the barest of contact, the spark between them was immense, and she wouldn't have been able to stop herself from that kiss even if someone slammed a zanpakutou through her body.

But just as she broke away, a sudden grip on her chin forced her lips to meet his again, but with far more intensity. Her entire being soared; she felt so weightless, her limbs so jelly-like, that she was glad he was holding her so securely.

"Welcome back," he replied in a low tone, their gazes locked, electrified. His smile was faint, but true to his emotions. "... This must be what it feels like."

He didn't elaborate, but she didn't need him to.

"Yeah," she replied simply. "Must be."

_This is definitely love._

. .

Rukia and Yasutora followed after Orihime through the portal. Upon first glance at the healer and Ulquiorra, Yasutora managed a small grin, happy that she had moved past the painful unrequited love she once held for a certain bright-haired shinigami.

As they stopped some small distance away from the couple, to give them some privacy, they realized that all this time, Uryuu had been standing at the sidelines—nearly unnoticeable with his back to the scene, out of respect for the girl he still had feelings for. Orihime must've not seen him, nor sensed him, because of Ulquiorra right in front of her.

Rukia was the first to approach and put a gentle fist against the Quincy's back to catch his attention. "Hey."

Uryuu turned and glanced at his friends out of the corner of his eye. "She's happy," he said indifferently, masking whatever he was really feeling. "That's all that matters."

Both Rukia and Yasutora had to agree.

"I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that," she commented, looking toward the couple, Ulquiorra in particular. "Ever."

"I don't think I've ever seen _her_ smile like that," Yasutora said, watching Orihime proudly.

\- { - } -

Orihime learned that the three former Espada had undergone more sword-training while she was gone. She was eager to show off her own skills, so a few days later, she decided to do some sparring with Ulquiorra.

He admitted, though, that he was a little wary of the idea, but she excitedly insisted that everything would be fine. But still...

"Inoue, bear in mind," he was in the midst of saying. "If anything goes wrong, you _must_ tell me to stop. Understand?"

"Ulquiorra-kun, you're so serious," she remarked with a giggle. "Believe me, it's not like I didn't do anything while I was away."

He had to smirk a little. "You are right," he replied. With that, he swiveled on his heel, and with one hand gripping the wooden sword and the other casually sitting in his pocket, he made his way across the grounds.

"Don't go easy on me!" she called after him.

And so, it began. Orihime easily kept her distance, using her defensive shield to buffer his attacks, as well as the occasional use of Tsubaki, but only to taunt him. He effectively dodged every time.

Ulquiorra was slowly closing in. It wasn't easy fighting someone who could push him back without laying a finger on him, but it wasn't as though he was inexperienced.

Suddenly, he appeared directly before her. Her gray eyes snapped to his.

"I feel like you are the one going easy on me," he commented, and before he could stop himself, his wooden sword slammed onto the top of her head.

She didn't defend herself.

His eyes widened in shock. He hit her.

 _He_ _hit_ _her_.

Ulquiorra definitely recognized the feeling of panic when it rose within him. He immediately withdrew his sword, dropping it to the ground next to him with a clatter. "Inoue," he said, worry underlying his stoic voice. "Are you hurt? I'm sorry."

To his surprise, he discovered that she was smiling... _smiling_ after he whacked her on top of the head with the _bokken_. "Oh, whoops, I wasn't ready..." she laughed awkwardly. "You're pretty fast, Ulquiorra-kun."

Just then, a streak of blood trickled down her forehead as if it was a bead of sweat. She didn't seem to feel it.

His eyebrow twitched. What was wrong with this girl? " _Onna_ ," he asserted, talking to her more slowly as if she didn't comprehend Japanese. "Do you not feel—"

"Oh, there's blood," she finally noticed, a hand reaching up to smudge the trail running past her nose.

He suppressed a glare in her direction. " _Of course_ there is blood." For a second, he wondered if he cracked her skull on accident. He gently reached out to wipe off the rest of the blood on her face. He then examined her so intensely that he was sure it made her uncomfortable.

"Does it hurt?" he asked again.

"No?" she answered puzzledly, and then smiled at his look of disbelief. "I have a hard head, Ulquiorra-kun. It's okay."

 _It's_ okay _?_ He repeated in his head as he stared down at her, baffled. He was about to feel terribly guilty about the incident, but she was ready to dismiss it as if he told her that he accidentally poked her on the head with his finger. "You're hurt," he concluded, his tone insistent, sounding like he trying to convince both himself and her. "I _told_ you to stop me."

"I'm okay!" she protested.

"No, you are not," he countered, the power in his tone shutting her up instantly. "I will not overlook this." He reached up to tenderly lay his hand on her head. As he suspected, there was a warm, wet spot underneath his palm. "I did this to you. It's my fault."

"But I wasn't going hard enough on you, Ulquiorra-kun..." she said with a pout, but then brightened. "And anyway, I can heal myself! You can even hit me over the head as many times as you—"

"Don't say things like that, you foolish woman," he reprimanded her with bridled horror. He was about to lean in to inspect the injury further, but a bright yellow light blinded him, causing him to reactively stumble back a step or two.

Seconds later, she was perfectly fine, minus the few drops of blood that remained.

Orihime wiped her forehead of them. "There!" she cheered with ease. She beamed up at him, clearly not noticing the open shock on her boyfriend's face. "One more time?"

Was she kidding?

\- { - } -

"YOU HIT INOUE?"

Ulquiorra pulled his head back and to the side as one angry Kurosaki Ichigo fisted handfuls of his shirt, shaking him as if it would knock some sort of unknown sense into him. "You fucking—!"

"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime protested. "It's okay! It was an accident!"

"B-But... why are you defending him!" Ichigo sputtered helplessly, pointing at the former Arrancar accusingly.

"Because she seems to have more logic than you do, Kurosaki Ichigo," Ulquiorra said quietly, with a subtle tone of strain from the shinigami's manhandling. "It was indeed an accident, and believe me, I do not enjoy thinking about it at all."

Ichigo released him with a stubborn push and a _hmph_. "Only because this nutjob is your boyfriend," he mumbled to her.

"You have known Urahara Kisuke longer than I have, and you dare to call _me_ a 'nutjob'?"

"You know what I mean!"

"I do not understand the human tendency to grossly exaggerate trivial—"

"Ulquiorra-kun! Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime finally shouted over them.

Both men turned to stare at her. She swallowed. Each of them was holding an intimidating glare.

"I-It's okay," she stammered. "I'm fine!"

With a relenting scowl, Ichigo finally decided to change subjects. "So, Rukia's been telling me about something weird happening in Hueco Mundo," he started nonchalantly, but behind it was a slight heedfulness.

Orihime looked away, pondering. _That's right..._

"What are you talking about?" Ulquiorra asked, obviously out of the loop.

"An evolved Hollow that shapeshifts," Ichigo explained. "Not just with his appearance, but his reiatsu. It's nothing we've encountered before, not even with the different Arrancars we've defeated. Rukia thinks that the stale air after—" he snuck a nanosecond-length glance at Orihime, "—after... the incident might have stuck around long enough to sorta mutate evolving Hollows."

She stared at her hands in her lap, pondering the words.

_That incident..._

. .

_"NOOOO!" she suddenly heard herself shriek; bloodcurdling, terrified. The realization of what she had done burned into her chest like a torch of fire straight to her heart._

_But she did this. She must fix it._

_Collapsing to her knees, her glassy gray eyes distant as they stared into the opening into the next world, she—_

. .

Orihime suddenly gasped in heaps of air, as if saving herself from drowning. Her hand placed above her breast, she felt her heart beat fast and hard.

Ulquiorra looked at her with some concern. "What is it?"

"I was..." she began, looking at the two males with her. "... I heard myself screaming." She turned to the open doorway, her eyes going past the shop and to the peaceful outdoors. "It looked like Karakura on one side—"

"—Fake Karakura," Ichigo guessed.

She nodded, her eyes looking faraway. "It was... blending into Hueco Mundo. I dropped to my knees, but then I came to."

She surprised herself at how calm she sounded. It wasn't too long ago when she refused to review her nightmares, when she couldn't control the panic crippling her body. Was it learned helplessness? Was she used to the flashbacks? Or did the horror of what she did just not scare her anymore?

Maybe _that_ was beginning to worry her more.

"I had the same kind of flashback when we first arrived in Hueco Mundo," she continued distractedly. "Something about that world was telling me to remember."

Suddenly, Ichigo stood up, causing the spoons and the teacups to rattle against the table. Both Orihime and Ulquiorra looked up at him puzzledly. He cleared his throat awkwardly and turned away from the two.

"I..." he started, not knowing how to explain his abrupt movement. "I don't think it's a good idea to try," he finally told her uncomfortably.

"I heard that much from the other shinigami," she responded warily. "But..."

"If it was so bad that you ended up blocking your memories of it, then they're probably right," Ichigo said. "It's not that we're scared about it—we're over that now—but for _your_ sake, Inoue, we don't want that knowledge to hurt you.

"... And as far as that flashback or whatever is concerned, all I can say is that you _really_ fucked up those barriers, all right? For a while, Hueco Mundo and Soul Society—disguised as Karakura—were one place."

Feeling as though he had enough of the conversation, the orange-haired Vizard stood up and started making his way out.

 _Trust him to keep his word to the fullest..._ Orihime bit her bottom lip. Her unsettled feelings only increased, even exponentially, the further away Ichigo trekked, until finally... "Wait, Kurosaki-kun," she broke in, fixing a piercing stare at his back.

Reluctantly, he stopped where he was, halfway out of the shop.

"If I can handle actually being in Hueco Mundo with everything that's happened to me," she continued, "and handle what's been going on in my mind up to now, then I think I deserve the _entire_ truth."

"What'd be the point in that, Inoue?" he questioned distantly. "Why torture yourself?"

"I—"

"How many times to we have to say this?" he cut in darkly, not bothering to turn around. "It happened; that's all that matters. It happened and _you_ fixed us. From there, we celebrate killing Aizen and those fucking Espadas and move on to the next heap of trouble that comes into our world."

Next to Orihime, Ulquiorra stiffened at the mention of Espadas. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, and craned her gaze back to their group leader. But he was already out of sight.

_"It happened and you fixed us."_

"Us?" she whispered to herself puzzledly. What did 'they' have anything to do with it? It was a careless slip of tongue, for sure, but what did it mean?

"Inoue," her boyfriend spoke up, trying to rouse her out of her musings. "It sounds peculiar—what he said about you fixing _them_."

She turned to gape at him, her eyes comically wide with bafflement.

He gracefully raised a brow. "... What?"

"You scared me!"

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Is that all?"

She scratched the back of her head timidly. "No... I mean, his words were exactly what I was thinking, too."

He crossed his arms in thought. "Then, are you able to piece his statement together with your memories?"

She shook her head. Everything seemed so arbritrary. She had a shield that vaporized things from within, recollections of wanting to bring 'them' back, and extraordinary powers that broke dimensional barriers, which led to the mysterious presence of three former Espadas.

Unexpectedly, like a looming, ominous shadow, an odd expression came over Ulquiorra. But as abruptly as it had appeared, it vanished—like it had been some kind of mistake.

"I fear that I am coming up short on possibilities, as well," he finally pronounced, his eyes concentrated on his lap.

Maybe it was wrong of her to glimpse at him so mindfully, as if expecting an amendment to his words. After all, Ulquiorra wouldn't hide anything from her—not from his savior.

And _especially_ not from the girlfriend he cherished so much.

\- { - } -

August 7th rolled around sooner than Ulquiorra expected, and according to Kisuke, they were going to hold a social gathering of sorts to celebrate what they termed as _Tanabata_. And since _social_ meant they were having guests, others—including Orihime's nakama and the usually secluded Vizards—came over to the shop for some festivities.

Ulquiorra had been gone for around fifteen minutes earlier that evening, restocking on sodas (although he didn't know why his lazy housemates did not realize that they were short on them in the first place). He concluded that Rock-Paper-Scissors was a terrible way to decide who had to bear the burdens of the household; he never won. It was unfortunate, going from a fearful Espada to being a loser in a simple hand game...

Moreover, he wanted to wait for the last arrival of the party: Orihime. She said she was going to buy bamboo paper before coming to Kisuke's in order to show him some other custom of Tanabata, but here he was, stuck with this dreaded _chore_.

_I will kill every one of these people._

"Oi, oi, oi!" a festive Ichigo greeted as soon as the former Espada arrived on the premises. He frowned a little. "You ain't even wearing a yukata!" The shinigami clamped a hand down on his shoulder, his breath reeking of sake.

"You have just now noticed, Kurosaki Ichigo?" He turned his nose away from the teenager's reddened face.

If Ulquiorra remembered correctly, high school students were too young to be consuming alcohol. What was wrong with Kisuke? Was buying soda even necessary? What a waste of time.

"Whatchu got there?" the bright-haired teen asked in a slurred voice, moving around to peek into the bag.

Ulquiorra pushed him off. "Clearly nothing that you would want to drink." He discreetly searched around the darkened grounds for Rukia, hoping the shorter woman would come by and deal with him.

Instead, Hirako Shinji approached them, a beer in his hand as he slung his arm over Ichigo's shoulder. "Oh, so you're number three of these ex-Arrancars," he greeted, pointing at Ulquiorra with drunken fascination.

Indeed, it was Ulquiorra's first time actually talking to the Vizard... "I suppose I am," he replied.

Shinji nodded in acknowledgment. "Definitely my rival for Orihime-chan's affections."

"I do not condone such a ridiculous notion," he snapped, and moved coolly past the two.

Yoruichi, for once in her striking human form and in a yellow-orange yukata, was sitting on the floor of the shop between the open doors, observing the festivities of their friends rather than joining in. Her smile toward him made him suspicious. "Your princess awaits inside, Lover Boy."

He felt something leap from within. He blinked. That was strange... what was that? Was it _joy_? A lighter variation of what he felt upon reuniting with Orihime the previous—

"Uhh... Earth to Ulquiorra?" Yoruichi was waving a hand in front of his momentarily dazed face.

Regaining composure, he scowled at her and dropped the bag down next to her. "Here are the things ordered of me," he explained briefly before walking inside.

"Hm? You don't want to light up the fireworks and sparklers with us?" she asked, twisting around to look at him.

He waved at her dismissively. "Perhaps later." He wanted to see Orihime first.

"Suit yourself."

. .

When he entered the dining room, he found that Rukia, Grimmjow and Tia—also clad in yukatas—were having a celebration of their own... with Orihime, who had apparently arrived while he was away.

And it was not what he expected. Not at all.

Ulquiorra shot an angered look at Grimmjow, then at Tia, and then at Rukia. His jaw tensed. "Are you telling me you got her _drunk_?" he seethed quietly.

"You're welcome!" Rukia exclaimed merrily.

Grimmjow smirked, giving him a peace sign. V for victory? _What_ victory? "Just warmin' her up for ya."

"Think of it as an opportunity," Tia replied without hesitation.

"All thanks to us, of course," added Grimmjow, glancing at him with a calculating grin. He turned to Rukia and Tia, feeling triumphant. " _Kanpai!_ " he declared with gusto. The three clinked sake cups.

" _What opportunity_?" Ulquiorra ground out through clenched teeth.

All of a sudden, Orihime, who had come out of nowhere, stumbled into him, giggling helplessly as she sought comfort in his arms.

Ulquiorra drew in a breath, unable to assess the situation. A drunk Orihime was unheard of. All this time, he thought she was an angelic, altruistic human and nothing more. But this side of her was... different.

Tia chuckled, pouring herself another cup of sake. "He's blushing."

Ulquiorra managed to give her a threatening stare. That is, until even Orihime noticed. "Ah!" she exclaimed, staring up at his face with wide, gray eyes. "Urukkun's face is red, too!"

 _Urukkun?_ he thought weakly.

Rukia chortled. "Hah! Great observation, Orihime."

Grimmjow began laughing like a maniac.

She was swaying so much that she could fall over any given time, and Ulquiorra had no choice but to wrap his arms steadily around her. But he found himself constantly adjusting his hold because she was flopping all over him like a damn deadweight. " _Onna_ ," he pressed with a bit of annoyance. "Stop that. And do _not_ call me—"

"You're comfortable, Urukkun," she cooed loudly, pressing herself heavily against him. Ulquiorra struggled to keep their standing positions, but with her leaning against him so awkwardly, toppling over was inevitable.

He let out a muffled _oof_ as his back hit the ground, the curvy bundle of giggles lying impudently on top of him. He was openly mortified at their predicament, but made no move to fix it. Ulquiorra only stared up at Orihime, emerald eyes fixated on her laughing pools of silver-gray. He was unable to control his heart pulsating in his ears.

_What...?_

Orihime didn't seem startled by their physical contact at all. Instead, she pressed herself against him, breasts squished against his chest and arms wrapped around his shoulders as she buried her face into the nape of his neck. "Oooh, Urukkun..." He could feel her lips move against his skin as she spoke. Her yukata was beginning to slip off her shoulders.

He tried not to gulp. "Inoue," he warned, not recognizing the subtle quiver in his voice. Even with the drunken transformation, he still found her quite alluring. Nonetheless, he should not let temptation get in the way of logic.

"I'm putting her to bed," the dark-haired one grunted as he struggled to sit up.

"Didn't know fucking a drunk girl was in your repertoire," his blue-haired friend said wickedly. He had on a malicious smile. "You're leaving without having anything for yourself?"

"You _trash_ ," Ulquiorra growled at him.

"Yeah, that insult's not gonna work on me, _Urukkun._ "

"We're going to sleep already?" Orihime asked with a pout. "But Urukkun, I want more sake..."

"Ulquiorra will give you something much better than sake," Tia spoke up. After the black-haired male murderously glowered at her again, she smiled breezily. "Indeed. Much better," she added, for emphasis.

"Huh?" the shield-user asked innocently, looking at Ulquiorra. "What does she mean, Urukkun?"

"Stop calling me that," Ulquiorra hissed at her. "And she means _bed_ , Woman. You had enough for the night." He pulled himself to his feet, carrying her bridal style as he made his way to his room. Unluckily for him, he could hear the others, even the normally quiet Tia, burst into laughter behind him.

"Man, I would'a never pinned Princesa to be a horny drunk!" Grimmjow exclaimed to Tia and Rukia just before Ulquiorra slid the door shut with his foot.

 _Fools,_ he thought with killing intent. _All of them._

Despite Orihime's consequent complaints about not being able to drink anymore, Ulquiorra set her down into his unrolled futon.

"Urukkun," she piped up, making a feeble reach for him.

He grabbed her wrist before she could grab his. "Sleep," he ordered firmly. "I will deal with your actions in the morning."

"Kiss me good night, then."

He paused and shifted his eyes to the side, unsure.

"Please?"

_Do not look at me so pathetically._

"You're so cool like a yakuza," she babbled incoherently, randomly going off on a tangent without waiting for a response. "I want to kiss a yakuza. Yakuza-kun, kiss me~"

 _What_ was she even talking about?

"Ah... no," she corrected herself cheerfully. She wasn't even looking at him anymore. Instead, she stared at the ceiling, lost in her strange, imaginative world of meaningless things. "Not yakuza. You're as cool as Nishikido Ryo. You should be an actor, Yaku—Urukkun! No! Cooler because you're hotter!" She giggled at the last statement.

Who was Nishikido Ryo? What was an actor? What was a _yakuza_? He sighed heavily. "You are a mess right now."

She only laughed at him in reply.

Intoxication aside, her smile was irresistible, and he just couldn't help himself. He leaned down and let his lips press against the apple of her warm, rosy cheek.

"That is all you will get," he whispered.

But he made the mistake of eyeing her lips. They were inviting, soft and pink, begging to be touched. From there, the green orbs traveled across the delicate angles of her jaw and to her exposed neck. Such dewy, touchable skin, waiting to be—

 _This is foolish,_ he interrupted himself, hoping it would restrain his hormones from acting upon these imageries. He felt like he was back in that inappropriate dream, kissing her neck, making her cry out his name in—

_Foolish._

His heart thumped with nerves he was not used to. He was suddenly aware of the way he was positioned above her: his arms bent and situated at either side of her head, his head angled close to her ear, and one knee casually propped in between her sprawled legs.

"Good night," he breathed self-consciously. He lifted his head to look at her, but it, too, was a mistake.

Orihime ran her lips delicately over his bottom one, achingly seeking permission.

He had meant to protest her, but instead, he found his own automatically molding against hers. The sensuality of her action spurred him to use his fingers to pull gently at her chin, parting her mouth. Discretion went out the window as their kiss deepened; tongues dancing, lips massaging. The feeling between them was searing; newly exciting, ablaze with need.

He never fathomed such a need, such a strong attachment for someone. It wasn't until then he realized how deep these feelings ran. Through their kisses, their passion, he was allowing her to see and feel an intensely internalized part of him—his emotional side. It was almost as if he was cutting open his chest and showing her his heart.

_Damn this woman._

He lowered himself until his body crushed hers beneath him. One pale hand tangled itself in her beautiful tresses; the other slipped around her waist. His kisses began to trail across her jaw and down her throat.

She whimpered softly. He shushed her with another long, stimulating kiss on the mouth, one that led to a powerful wave of lustful urgency that crashed over them both. He became only aware of her voluptuous body pressed against his and her hands resting against the top button of his pants.

He suddenly—and reluctantly—pulled away. Something about it felt wrong, too unceremonious and abrupt. He wanted the consummation of their passion to be special, burnt well into both their minds; not when Orihime's mind was hazy with alcohol... and not in the midst of a party going on outside of his room. Plus, his door didn't have a lock.

"Not like this," Ulquirora said breathlessly, his tone firm. "You're drunk."

She looked like a crestfallen puppy, one with her yukata halfway off her shoulders. He tried not to notice her chest rising and falling, the peek of that pastel blue lace bra underneath, nor the way the hem of her attire bunched up past her knees.

_Nnoitra would be laughing at me right now._

"But..." she whined.

"Let me put it this way, then," he added huskily, "I would rather you be aware of every single thing I do to you."

Orihime blushed deeply. He didn't know what kind of things her mind was invoking at the moment, but either way, she seemed to enjoy that idea better. "Oh! U-um, okay..."

Her agreement didn't make things any easier for him. He was definitely turned on, and if he continued lying down on top of her, he would have to annul his statement. He forced himself to sit up and reluctantly turn away.

"Cover yourself and sleep," he said in a gruff voice. "I will be beside you."

"Just sitting there?"

"For the time being, yes."

\- { - } -

_"Didn't Kurosaki-kun befriend an Arrancar here?" Orihime asked her companions, her speech intrusive against the sound of sand sifting under their trekking feet. "Nel-chan, wasn't it? Whatever happened to her?"_

_Yasutora and the shinigami, with the exception of the task-minded Nemu, exchanged secretive, worrisome looks._

_"What? What did I say?" Orihime asked, shooting wary glances at each of them. "Did something happen?" She gasped. "Is she—"_

_"She's dead, yes," Rukia responded with a masked tone, keeping her eyes ahead. "A casualty of the war."_

_"Oh..." Orihime's puzzlement only grew. "Can I ask how?"_

_Yasutora took over the answering, remaining as vague as Rukia had been. "She got caught in the crossfire. That's all there is."_

\- { - } -

The following morning has broken.

Orihime let out a lion-sized yawn and stretched her arms out, one of which socked a certain green-eyed man in the face.

There was a startled grunt. Orihime turned over quickly, and saw that poor Ulquiorra had one hand over his face, on the bridge of his nose in particular. He was not happy.

"I'm sorry!" she apologized, half-laughing.

He glared at her.

"Urukkun," she coaxed with a pout.

"Why do you prefer to call me such a stupid name, Inoue?" he grumbled curtly. He finally moved, snaking his arms around her waist. Amusedly, she could see that his nose had turned slightly red from where she hit him. She bit her lip from giggling.

"That was not how I wanted to wake up," he added dryly.

"I'm sorry," she said sweetly, leaning closer to give him a peck on the nose.

His irritation seemed to dissolve, instantly cured by her kiss. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, resting his tired eyes. "How did you sleep?" he asked her.

She blinked, mildly surprised at herself. "I actually slept pretty well."

No nightmares, no tossing and turning. At least, as far as she could _recall..._

He groggily offered a small, rare smile. "Good."

Then, something slowly registered in her head. "Wait..."

She sat up abruptly. "What..."

Finally understanding, her face turned a horrified bright red as she recoiled from him, pulling the yukata over herself, tight like a coat on a winter day.

She had a _bedfellow_. She wasn't in sleepwear nor in her own futon. She fit the qualifications for the _walk of shame_. "... WHAT DID WE DO?" she squealed in embarrassment, consequently busting her boyfriend's eardrums.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, recovering from the pain of her morning shrieks. "All we did was _sleep_. Inoue, are you not supposed to have that temporary condition called a hang—"

"NEXT TO ME?"

He let out a sharp huff of breath through his nose. "You do not have to scream at me," he muttered with a bit of annoyance. "Since we're together, I do not see the problem."

"But that's so—" She bashfully looked away without finishing. "I mean, we haven't been together for that long."

"... I don't have a better answer," Ulquiorra murmured. The words sounded awkward from his lips—it was not something he was accustomed to admitting. "Out of impulse, I wanted to stay close to you."

Taken aback, her shy gray orbs ventured back onto his lying form. A twinge of warmth sparked in her chest and swelled within her like wildfire. While he didn't explain to her in-depth what he meant, the few words he did say already spoke volumes.

She almost forgot that Ulquiorra was even newer to love than she was; that he was naïve to what was appropriate or not. He approached her some of the time with almost _too_ careful consideration, and other times, innocent spontaneity... innocent _passion_ , if there was such a thing.

He finally decided to sit up, the slipping covers revealing the full glory of his sculpted abdominal muscles, which she must admit, were very... _very_ attractive. And even though she _was_ pretty drunk the previous night, she still remembered vividly how good it felt when he—

_Ahh! Clean thoughts! This isn't the right time!_

"If you find it inappropriate," he said to her indifferently. "I will not do it again."

It took a considerable amount of mental strength to tear her ogling eyes away from his chest and force them to meet his awaiting stare.

"T-That's not what I meant."

The sternness in his facial expression relaxed; he looked relieved. But why? So he could act 'inappropriately' again or because what he did wasn't wrong? She looked at him with light accusation. "Uh... Ulquiorra-kun?"

His lips lifted in a smirk, his eyes filling with dark playfulness, something new and intriguing. A part of her wanted to swoon right there in the futon.

"You did not pull off a convincing ingenue, if that is what you are trying to convey to me," he told her frankly. "But despite your antics, I thoroughly enjoyed myself last night."

She gulped, her heart drumming away like a jackhammer. "Ah!" she squeaked awkwardly. "I th-think I did, too!" She went from rosy-cheeked to beet red.

_Oh nooo, why did I say it like that?_

She didn't have much of an excuse for herself except that she had let Grimmjow, Rukia, and Tia (mostly Grimmjow) get her intoxicated. Through his convincing, it had _seemed_ like a relatively harmless way to temporarily battle her stress, but maybe she was just as naïve...

Ulquiorra reached toward her suddenly. She gasped a little when she felt his thumb affectionately caress a flushed cheek.

_He's so gentle..._

She would have never expected it if they had been back in Hueco Mundo. Hell, not even from Ichigo if she had stayed in love with him. But it no longer mattered. Ulquiorra was happy here; on Earth and with her. Her heart overflowed with her feelings for the man, and it compensated for a lot, including her longtime solitude.

In the midst of thought, she toppled herself forward and sank into his arms.

"What's wrong?"

Without answering him, she lovingly nuzzled against his neck and stayed there.

"Nothing at all, I assume," he reasoned, turning his emerald gaze downward. He shifted around so that he cradled her in his lap. "You are a strange woman."

He briefly tighten his grip on her, and for a second, Orihime thought she felt an out-of-place apology within it.

But maybe it was just the 'strange woman' in her being paranoid.

\- { - } -

_Toushiro didn't know how much time passed as the always-dependable Fourth Division took care of his injured self in Fake Karakura Town. He had been going in and out of consciousness while the war was going on._

_But then a bad feeling in his gut suddenly made him alert. It wasn't the pillars of Fake Karakura in danger of crumbling. Nor were there bluffs posed by Aizen and his immediate subordinate Ichimaru Gin (Tousen Kaname was already dead, by the hands of Komamura Sajin). In fact, his agitation wasn't about the simulation or the war at all._

_The worlds beyond Earth always had a balance, governed by the souls entering, exiting, and residing in each respective dimension. Therefore, he would know if there was too much or too little_ — _if there was any teeter in the equilibrium._

_One of his colleagues seemed to feel the same way. "Hm?" Izuru Kira muttered under his breath. He had been squatting not too far away, watching over Hinamori Momo's unconscious form alongside Iba Tetsuzaemon. But with concern kicking in, his forlorn-looking eyes darted up and then around him, searching for the source._

_Unohana Retsu, who had been in the process of healing Toushiro, suddenly straightened her back and sat back on her heels. "Something is wrong," she murmured in a quiet voice._

_Toushiro didn't need her to tell him that. Always eager to take action, he reflexively began to sit up, only to be held back by the excruciating pain all over his body._

_"Please don't move," Retsu reprimanded him in a gentle but hasty voice. "Let the others handle this." She gingerly pushed his chest back until he was lying again._

_Kira and Tetsuzaemon, on the other hand, stood up, both with their hands on the hilts of their swords. But no matter how anticipatory they seemed, they were still not completely sure what the danger was; although, from the unsettling emptiness resounding in their spiritual senses, its presence was easy to pick out._

_. ._

"Hitsugaya... wake up."

Toushiro grunted groggily, his heavy lids slowly blinking open. One cheek was flat against the cold desk. His neck and back were sore from the uncomfortable sleeping position.

He lifted his head. As he leaned back in his chair, he finally noticed who had woken him up. "Oh, Hisagi," he acknowledged tiredly. "What do you want?"

When his teal-colored eyes rose to squarely meet his fellow captain's, his jaw clenched. Shuuhei's eyes were pensive; tense with distress.

"What happened?" the shorter captain asked carefully, his eyes stern. He didn't want to make flimsy assumptions... but of _course_ peace had to be short-lived; just when one problem got solved, another just _had_ to arise.

Shuuhei's frown deepened. He didn't answer at first, until, "Do you feel Ichimaru Gin's reiatsu?"

It was a definite surprise to hear those words. The war was far behind them—as well as its casualties. But as Toushiro loosened his senses, he felt something cold slither through the edges of his reiatsu—sneaky and shrewd like a snake. The frosty presence of a traitor.

His blood boiled. It bubbled in his veins, fury coursing from his bones to the hairs on his skin. His fist pounded against his desk. His body filled with both anxiety and rage, he did not register the pain of the hit reverberating through his arm. "Impossible!"

"You weren't there when Team Inoue delivered the report from Hueco Mundo, were you?" Shuuhei asked him gravely.

"I only know the gist of it. They said they fought a Hollow that shapeshi—" Toushiro gritted his teeth, understanding the situation now.

Shuuhei silently affirmed his guesses with solid nod.

Toushiro swore under his breath, and without another word, shot out of his seat and sprinted out of the office.

\- { - } -

From out of nowhere, a pale hand slammed down against the sales counter of the shop, instantly catching the attention of a certain unassuming owner.

"Tell me what Inoue Orihime did during the Winter War," demanded a deep, austere voice.

With amused curiosity in his shadowed eyes, Kisuke turned to face an irate, newly arrived Ulquiorra. "This again?" he asked calmly. "It's really too hot to do anything, don't you think?"

Ulquiorra's cold, emerald gaze held something—not quite a question, but something more. He had parts of a puzzle put together, but needed that last piece to make it complete. He wasn't going to let his guardian prance around the topic any longer.

"Oh..." the former captain uttered, lifting his head in realization. "You seem to have something figured out, don't you?"

"I have my suspicions. I want them confirmed."

"Just confirmation? You want all the depressing, sordid details just for a little confirmation?"

"..."

"Ah, such a serious one you are," the sandy-haired one remarked.

"Stop changing the topic, Urahara Kisuke," Ulquiorra fumed in a low, menacing tone.

"... I see how much this means to you." There was a glint of rightful skepticism in Kisuke's eyes. "But I wonder if you are here on behalf of Orihime-chan herself."

"I am here of my own accord," the darker haired male responded seriously. "She does not know I'm here requesting this of you."

"Sneaky." The shop owner came out from behind the counter to join his foster son of sorts. "Ulqui-kun, if I do this for you," he continued airily, a hint of grave warning embedded within his tenor, "you cannot tell Orihime-chan. At all."

Ulquiorra's glare hardened. He should have anticipated the requirement, but it riled him up more than he thought it would.

"Do you want her to feel despair?" Kisuke added, noticing the expression.

The former Espada's throat tightened at the word. He instantly thought of Orihime's smile, angelic and unassuming; her endearing laughter ringing through his ears. Would he dare be the one to let any of it disappear? To be the one to make her cry?

"Of course not."

But at the same time, would this be betrayal?

Ulquiorra had never felt more irresolute about anything.

"Then you understand, don't you?" Kisuke asked, narrowing his eyes. "If what you think is true is, in fact, the very same thing I tell you, then it would put that poor girl in misery. Surely, an emotion of that caliber would affect her abilities—her heart. It _is_ its core, after all. The Hougyoku, as I'm sure you know, is simply an enhancer. But its presence has its consequences."

"..."

The shop owner chuckled in spite of the situation. "A god's wrath, yeah?"

"My _god_ will stay happy as long as she is with me," Ulquiorra growled, his gaze burning with determination. "If I know the cause of her current troubles, then I can more properly keep her safe. Not only from herself or from harm, but for everyone's sake."

Kisuke blinked, the intensity in his own gaze softening. For sure, it was the first time he saw such human devotion. "You are really in love with that girl, aren't you, Ulqui-kun?"

The question was a bit startling. It wasn't one the Resurrected expected out of his guardian's mouth in the midst of such a serious conversation, but he had heard it from Grimmjow once before... and it wasn't something he needed to ruminate over.

"I am."

For a long while, Kisuke was silent. "So... will this stay between us?"

Ulquiorra did not like the idea of keeping things from Orihime. It may mean that he was no better than her highly secretive comrades. He and Orihime shared a _relationship_ , which included a trust that should never be broken without a very good reason. But, he supposed he could use this information to judge for himself if the secrecy was justifiable.

"Yes," he answered coolly.

* * *

. .

. .

. .

 **\- { SURPRISE! AN EXTRA SCENE } -  
**  
_\- { a blooper } -_  
**  
**

He gently reached out to grip her chin with one hand while wiping off the rest of the blood on her face with the other. He then examined her so intensely that he was sure it made her uncomfortable.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"No?" she answered puzzledly, and then smiled. "I have a hard head, Ulquiorra-kun. It's okay."

He raised a hand to stop her; he wasn't finished speaking. "I mean..."

She tilted her head curiously at him.

He held her gaze, looking as serious as he has ever been. "... after you fell down from Heaven."

"..."

"..."

"W-What!"


	12. Lunar Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something was very off about the way he pressed his lips against hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Adagio" as sung by Amici Forever; "Fly Me To The Moon" as sung by Olivia Ong; "Lunar Dreams" by S.E.N.S.; "Gira Con Me" by Josh Groban

 

 

_\- { ex umbra in solem } -_

_The light was blinding. It was like the sun was crashing upon them. Ichigo felt it all around him. He couldn't even see his companions close by._

_It burned. His skin bubbled and sizzled; his bones grated into nothing. It was only a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours as he stood there, seized by the heat and the vast sphere of doom. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would all go away, that it was just a nightmare in his head, but the scream of Rukia, among others, nearby rang too clearly in his ears._

_He wanted to yell for her, to get to her, but his vocal cords charred with the rest of him._

_For that last, brief heartbeat, he thought back to his last victory. While Ulquiorra left with a quiet, poignant end, he and his nakama suffered_ _―_

_. ._

Ichigo suddenly sat up in his bed with a startled cry, sweat dripping down his forehead. He put a hand over his heart in an effort to calm himself down.

What a dream.

He let out a loud, heavy sigh, which in turn startled the girl living in his closet. Its door slowly slid open, and Rukia's groggy face and tousled head of hair peeked out. She frowned at her roommate of sorts. "Nightmare?" she asked him softly with concern.

"Memory would be more accurate," Ichigo retorted, slowly massaging his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "God, never thought I'd dream about that shit again."

Her forehead creased with worry. "I wonder if that was how Orihime felt every time she tried to sleep―awakening to horror and confusion... images she didn't understand."

The orange-haired shinigami used the hem of the t-shirt he was wearing to wipe his face off of sweat. "No idea." He stared down at his covers. "And I don't know what we could do for her if she found out."

"... You don't think it's just one giant mistake, do you?" she wondered suddenly.

Ichigo squinted at her in the dark. "We've already come this far, Rukia."

"I'm saying that because Orihime's become... I don't know, _aggressive_ about wanting to know. Remember what happened to you when you talked to her at Urahara's?"

"Yeah, but then what?" he countered drearily. "Say she does find out. What then? Would she be happy that we told her? Would she find that revelation satisfying?" He lowered his gaze to his blanket. "What if she doesn't find any peace of mind, after all?"

It was Rukia's turn to sigh. "I'm having doubts, Ichigo."

"No matter what we do, she won't be happy," he grunted.

"It's not her fault, you know," Rukia reminded him.

Of course it wasn't Orihime's fault. The entirety of it was an accident, albeit one that fortunately ended a war... and here they were, minimizing her role to nothing. It was an offensive erasure that was too late to take back. What kind of friends were they? What kind of _hero_ was _he_?

He thought back to that one day when she killed the Hollows with one shot of her Fushokuten Shishun; _poof_ , and it was done. He really began to admire her determination and strength. He didn't care much for Ulquiorra's notions of gods, but he did see Orihime as someone whose ability was no longer underestimated.

"What do _we_ do then, Rukia?" Ichigo asked absently, yawning. "She's been so caught up in taking care of Ulquiorra and the others that it's like she's distanced herself from us, anyway."

"Not intentionally, Ichigo," she pointed out.

He flopped back onto his pillow and stared, with contemplative brown eyes, up at his dark, moon-illuminated ceiling. "Not intentionally..." he echoed, his voice trailing off in thought.

She sank back into her makeshift bed. "Anyway, it's probably too late to take back our ardent secrecy of it all without much backlash," she muttered through the still-ajar closet door. "But at least we know that she will be just fine... with _him_ around."

_Right..._

Months ago, he wouldn't have liked the idea of a former enemy getting close to a _nakama_ of his, especially one he had imprisoned, but things have really changed. Ichigo supposed he could call this sentiment a change of heart. He hoped that Orihime's relationship with Ulquiorra was enough to drive her away from the war.

It wasn't like he had any answers, anyway.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra had his suspicions about the event, and it made sense why it was all kept from her. He should have been floored by the truth from Kisuke, but he wasn't. He had once lived as a Hollow, so he didn't exactly expect himself to be as fazed by great power as the humans and shinigami were―especially as a subordinate of Aizen Sousuke.

Despite that, Orihime herself still stunned him. After all, healers weren't murderers, and even if there were casualties, killing wasn't the intention. Healers were also not meant to bring the dead back to life, but she had certainly proved that wrong, too.

From out of nowhere, he felt two hands clamp down on either shoulder from behind. "Hey! I thought we were going to go out!"

Startled, he mutely snapped his eyes to hers and suddenly remembered where he was; in the two-week summer cram session at school. Class had ended for the day, and he had been sitting at his desk in thought for who knew how long.

Orihime peered down at him with a broad, excited smile. "Today's a great day for ice cream, isn't it?"

"I guess," he answered indifferently.

He never told her that he knew, and the guilt of it weighed him down. The knowledge was the one thing she wanted, but he feared that it would be too much for her. And now that he bore the secret kept by nearly everyone else, he began to understand their careful actions and words.

_She seems so happy now..._

Yet this was the same beautiful girl who vaporized nearly everything in Hueco Mundo.

"You don't seem that excited," she observed with an arched brow. "Is cram school too much? Do you want to go home instead or something?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed at her lips, the same ones that muttered _Fushokuten Shishun;_ the same ones that could move so sensually and heartfully against his own. "The lecture was just... fruitless and tiring, that's all," he answered, trying to perk up his tone (as if it made much of a difference) for her sake.

Obviously, he didn't want her to know what he had been thinking about.

Her slender fingers traced over his shoulders. "You seem stressed," she noted softly.

He was, for sure.

Her gentle caress began to tickle a little at first, and then grow weirdly firm. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but the rolling presses through his aching muscles wasn't the type of touch he was accustomed to. "What are you doing?" he asked her warily, craning his neck.

"Relax," she said to him, stopping briefly to face him back front. "I'm just going to give you a quick massage."

"Mass―?" He was interrupted by the sudden kneading against the tension in his lower neck and shoulders.

Surprisingly, it felt wonderful, the strain quickly releasing; repelling itself from his being. Ulquiorra couldn't help but bow his head and close his eyes. For the moment, he found himself feeling more reposed, lighter than air.

"Are you okay, Urukkun?" her voice chimed in sweetly. She sounded as if she rang in from Heaven itself.

"I am," he told her gratefully. The placidity in his voice was unusual to his ears, but it wasn't like he minded it.

Orihime leaned forward to offer him a bright grin. Her long hair spilled over her shoulder like a silken cascade. "Do you feel better?"

Those pretty gray eyes suddenly reminded him of ashes, possibly a by-product of her unintended annihilation. He must have not expressed satisfaction on his face, because she went right to a hurt frown. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?" she asked him fretfully.

He blinked out of the brief musing. "It's nothing," he reassured her, and stood up from his desk.

 _Nothing_ , he repeated silently. _I must act like it was nothing. We should have only our future to worry about. It is all I can do._ The war had been a question that gnawed the patience out of his girlfriend, but in the end, he rather she completely let go of her demons just as he let go of his.

Together, they exited the classroom. As he slid the door closed behind him, he reached for her hand. When their fingers intertwined, her cheeks turned pink.

This girl really was endearing; he couldn't help the smile that stretched across his features. "This is what I am supposed to do, is it not?" he asked her, his deep voice rather light as they walked beside each other down the hallway.

She laughed bashfully. "If you want..."

"Of course, 'I want,'" he responded. "If we did not have a public image to uphold on campus, I would be doing much more."

"E-Eh? Like what!"

"Ice cream, you said?" he asked her, pulling her along as they sauntered down the stairwell. He purposely ignored her inquiry, and paid no heed to the heads turning to ogle the new couple. "I believe I've seen a new place around."

"But Urukkun..."

. .

Without event, the pair reached a shopping strip attached to a relatively close train station. After buying ice cream, they sat down on a bench that overlooked moderately busy station. Ulquiorra watched it with wonder. The efficiency of something so befitting of human lifestyle fascinated him.

"Oh, you've never taken a train before, have you, Urukkun? Or the subway?"

"Subway?" he repeated with uncertainty, glancing at her.

"It's a mode of transportation, sort of like a bus!" Orihime seemed enthusiastic, but he let out a grunt of disapproval. He didn't like the bus very much. Something about cramped, wheeled vessels full of strangers presented too little control of his surroundings for him.

"Do they have space?" he asked her.

"It depends on where you're going," she explained in-between bites. She snuck a look at him and blinked at his empty hand. "Eh? Finished already?"

He shrugged.

"Anyway, we should take a train together sometime," she said sweetly. Her gray orbs were distant with fond, wishful thinking. "Just the two of us."

"By that, do you mean a trip?" he questioned nonchalantly.

It somehow warranted a flustered response, for she ducked her head shyly, her nose nearly touching her ice cream. "I-I-I guess that w-works, too..."

Perhaps her definition of _trip_ and his were two totally different things. It made him curious, but he decided he would leave it alone for the time being.

Orihime glanced at the clock embedded into station facility and pouted. She probably needed to leave soon. Judging from what she had been telling him on their way from school, she had a lot to catch up on. Because of her duties with Soul Society, she had fallen behind in the spring session of school and was using the current cram session to make up for those missing months. It more than likely meant double the study time she was normally used to.

"Time to go?" he asked, surveying her.

She smiled guiltily. "Yeah... sorry that I have to cut this short."

"It's all right." He pressed his lips against her cheek.

She giggled. "Your lips are cold."

With a bit of mischief, he moved her chin slightly and planted another kiss on her again, but this time, against the soft warmth of her neck, just under the side of her jawbone.

She let out a surprised squeak and burned red out of self-consciousness. "U-Urukkun! There are people around!"

He smirked, but did not apologize.

He really did enjoy this life. If Yamamoto Genryuusai thought being human served as punishment for him, then he couldn't have been more wrong. Even if given the opportunity to return to Soul Society, Ulquiorra would not leave. He cared about his developing humanity. He was understanding life of the world of the living more than he ever imagined, and he loved it. It astounded him how ignorant he had once been.

Most of all, Orihime was too precious for him to leave alone in this world. No matter what happened, he would be there for her in a heartbeat.

\- { - } -

Was this what others referred to as the _honeymoon phase_?

Orihime felt like she was walking among clouds as she headed home that day. She wasn't even aware of opening the door to her home; she just felt so... _light_.

She did hit Earth again, though, when she noticed her roommate (who—along with Grimmjow and the others—was not attending summer school) sitting in front of an open, half-full duffel bag.

"Tia-san?" Orihime spoke up puzzledly. "What are you packing for?" She put a hand to her mouth, suddenly distraught. "You're not moving out, are you? I promise to be more careful of my cooking―"

The blonde chuckled and held up a hand to quiet her down. "I'm going out for a few days for... I believe Shihouin-san refers to it as recreational camping," she answered simply. "I will be joined by Grimmjow, Tessai, Ururu, and Jinta, as well. I'm sorry that it's such short notice, but it was an act of spontaneity."

"Ah..." Orihime was relieved.

Tia set her hairbrush into the bag and added, "Your world has a colorful landscape that I'd like to explore. I find it refreshing."

"I'm glad," the redhead replied happily, truly proud of her roommate. Tia was certainly making the best out of her exile and embracing human life.

Since Tia didn't have many possessions in the first place, she zipped up the bag as is. "This also means you'll have the apartment to yourself," she pointed out casually.

"Well... yeah," Orihime said with uncertainty. She wasn't sure what was being implied, and of course, Tia was quite aware of this.

"I hear that there is protection you must use so that couples like you two do not have premature offspring or particular diseases. Is that true?"

"Huh...?"

"..."

After a quizzical moment, the quip registered fully in her head. "Wha―I―Tia-s―!" she stuttered, too frozen in bafflement to form a complete sentence. Who was teaching her these things?

"If it is true," Tia continued nonchalantly, blatantly ignoring her perturbed state, "please use it. I do not want to come back to any unwelcome surprises."

"W-Wait, Tia-s-san..."

"Moreover," she interjected, "I would prefer not to be around when Ulquiorra makes those _intimate_ visits with you."

A deep blush crept over her face. "What!" she cried in disbelief. She held a hand over her heart, to slow its speeding pulse. "He doesn't―"

"Inoue-san. Don't you remember getting drunk for the first time?"

Orihime's eyes moved guiltily to the side.

Tia smirked regally. "Nevertheless, I'm glad that you two have found peace in each other's company. Ulquiorra is no longer that heartless soldier under Aizen's command." Her lips then spread into a rare, broad smile. "None of us are."

Orihime let out the breath she realized she had been holding. It was a sigh of contentment, a release of tension that perhaps represented more than what was said in their conversation.

_Peace in each other's company._

"Indeed," she agreed, beaming fondly.

The blonde pulled herself to her feet, lifting the bag up with her and slipping it over her shoulder. "Well, I believe they are expecting me. Again, I'm sorry that you were not informed sooner. Nor invited, either, I suppose."

Orihime shook her head. "Urukkun and I have summer school, anyway."

A short moment later, the two finally exchanged goodbyes. The door shut behind the blonde quietly, but it resounded profoundly in Orihime's ears, trapping the air of loneliness in with her.

It was the first time in a long while she had been left alone in her apartment. Even though she practically grew up by herself, she had become quite accustomed to having someone living with her.

\- { - } -

_She didn't know how long she walked, but it was getting her nowhere. She might as well be in an alternate universe. The dense, powerful reiatsu of her orange-haired knight-in-flowing-robes was suddenly nonexistent. The reiatsu of her other friends, as well, seemed to have vanished. In fact, the entirety of Hueco Mundo looked to be void of life. And there was no normalcy in its desolation; it felt wrong. She felt as though even the air she was breathing was watching her with accusing glares... as if she messed with the balance of this world's nature._

_Panting, she continued up a particularly large dune of sand. She hoped that by reaching the top, she could scope out for any signs of life... even if it were a Hollow._

_Near the peak, she spotted something that didn't look like belonged to the natural environment_ _―_ _a bit of white wrapping sticking out of the sand. Entranced by it, she sped forth and sank to her knees in front of it. She found herself digging, her delicate fingers dirtied as she plunged them in._

_It turned out to be a hilt of a sword, and it looked familiar. She hesitantly wrapped her hand around it, both intrigued and intimidated. Like a young Arthur standing in front of the legendary stone, she used her remaining strength to pull the hilt back. It was much heavier than she anticipated, but she was able to get it out, falling back on her rear breathlessly from the strain._

_The sword soundlessly hit the sand. But despite the accomplishment, she grew alarmed when she discovered_ why _it seemed familiar. There was no mistaking the shape of it.  
_

_"_ _K-Kurosaki-kun's...?"_

_Cautiously, she reached out to touch the flat of the wrapped blade._

_But the first cold feel of the metal hit her like an electric shock_ _―_ _the clash of a sudden conclusion._

. .

From the rumpled covers of her futon, Orihime let out a lazy groan as she rolled on to her back, her arm covering her eyes from the daylight spilling through her window.

She felt like her mind had gone through a tiresome adventure, but she didn't even remember what she had been dreaming about.

 _Ah, it doesn't matter,_ she thought sleepily. It was still early enough to continue her nap. She clung to her pillow to fight her waking senses, desperate for the return to slumber.

However, the knocking on her door―the original source of her nap's interruption―continued. "Inoue?" piped up a smooth, cool voice from outside. "Are you there?"

Ah, she had forgotten that she was expecting company. She forced herself to sit up. It would do no good to leave her esteemed guest in the heat.

"Yup, I'm here!" she answered him through a wide yawn.

It had been a few days since Tia and the others left for their camping trip. And Orihime suddenly remembered inviting Ulquiorra over that afternoon, for well... leisure time, she guessed.

"... Were you sleeping? Would you like me to see you tomorrow inst―"

The door had already swung open.

With the abrupt cut-off of his words, one would think that Ulquiorra should have been a bit surprised, but really...

"It's you, Urukkun!" she squeaked with a slight jump, her eyes momentarily wide.

He smirked at her as let himself in and slipped out of his shoes. "You were the one who invited me here. Why are _you_ surprised?"

"Because I'm still sleepy?"

Ulquiorra reached over and brushed through her slightly bedheaded hair, returning it to its normal state. "I see."

Orihime found herself falling into his powerful emerald gaze, like she had done countless times before. He still exhuded the summer weather, and she was increasingly tempted to feel that August warmth on his skin.

" _I would prefer not to be around when Ulquiorra makes those intimate visits with you."_

Tia's cheeky words had wormed their way into her brain.

She stiffened, especially when realizing that she and Ulquiorra were alone, and that there would be no interruption by anyone unless a shinigami randomly decided to make his or her rounds in the living world. This situation opened up a can of possibilities.

 _So, why am I staring at his chest!_ She thought to herself in flinching horror, quickly swerving her stare elsewhere.

"I think something's burning!" she suddenly cried out, nearly stumbling backward as she rushed to the kitchen.

"I doubt that," Ulquiorra said after her, seating himself calmly at her table. "I know you aren't foolish enough to leave something on while napping."

In most cases, that excuse would have worked on other people. Orihime stopped in her tracks and shyly turned back to him. "Well... um..."

Quick to notice the change in her, he raised an eyebrow at her, a bit confused. "I'm making you nervous."

"O-Of course you're not!"

He skeptically glanced at her cheeks, but didn't say anything else. They both knew she was red. It was hard hiding anything from someone as observant as he.

Finally, he beckoned her toward him. She obediently joined him on the floor, her posture rather rigid as she set her hands firmly in her own lap. His arm brushed against hers, elliciting a fuzzy, current of attraction between them that only heightened. She was fighting the leaping in her heart and the need to touch him.

"You are acting odd."

His hand moved to clasp hers, lifting it and laying a small kiss against her knuckles. "But I think I understand why." His lips were soft; the gesture was sweet.

"You... do?"

"I will not coerce you into anything." He planted another against her wrist before pulling it around his neck, coaxing her into his embrace.

She climbed into his lap and let her free arm join the other. _He smells nice..._

Ulquiorra held her closer and kissed her chastely, delicate like a flower petal, but it left Orihime somewhat unsatisfied. Maybe it was their proximity, her chest crushed against his, or maybe it was the way they were dressed; his uniform shirt wasn't buttoned all the way, allowing her to catch a tiny peek of his angular physique.

Has she ever been this physically attracted to anyone before? Anyone? She had never experienced this with Ichigo.

She was only vaguely aware as her legs moved, either one clutching around him to maintain balance and her position. Her skirt had always been a little short compared to the other girls because of her curvaceous body shape, and now it was a little rumpled around her. Any careless move could result in it getting hiked up.

So, it wasn't her own uneasiness about sex after all; she was the one who wanted it. It stirred from her abdomen and another area below. She remembered it well from the night of Tanabata―it was something she could not explain, but only feel. And this time, she wasn't intoxicated.

She thought she would have been unprepared something like this, that there would be a time where she had to be _ready_ ; that it would take an exclusive trip, a romantic holiday, or a special occasion for them to come this far. It may be a milestone for them relationship-wise, and very, very real, but she couldn't think of a better day, and she couldn't be in a better mood with a better man.

"You're quiet," her boyfriend noted with interest, his voice husky. His eyes fell to her mouth.

Subconsciously, she licked her lips.

And how about him? It wasn't like he had anyone before her (at least, a small part of her hoped not). Was Tanabata any real indication about what he felt?

One of his hands dropped to her skirt-covered thigh―not in a perverted way, but in one that signified his comfort around Orihime. It startled her at first, but she didn't dare shoo him off.

One of her own carefully wandered to him, until her fingers brushed against his throat, where she felt his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. They then dipped to an area over his heart. As she slid them further down, the first of the clasped buttons became undone. It was initially an accident, but one she didn't want to apologize for.

His gaze, suspicious and fierce, continued to linger on her. For sure, he had noticed her mood by now. "Be careful of what you start, Woman," he warned her in a low voice―almost in a sultry growl.

Unable to fight off her own urges any longer, Orihime kissed him, the liplock short, but indicative of her need. "You were the one who pulled me here."

His grip on her thigh shifted, the hand sneaking under the skirt and gliding smoothly across her skin. The other hand held her close in a somewhat possessive manner.

"I did not think you would be aroused," he answered quietly, a thread of something sly laced in his voice.

She bit back an eager whimper when his thumb ventured along her inner thigh.

 _Arousal..._ she said in her head. _That's what this is._

"Even though I'm straddling you?" she asked softly. She kissed him again, deeply this time. The heat inside her surged, melting away her anxiety and doubts. As for her brain, it was practically mush. She only wanted to feel; to appease her aching appetite for this man.

He sighed against her lips. "You better tell me when to stop," he whispered, his concern enduring despite his own lust for her.

She 'accidentally' undid another button.

"I was serious with those words. If you want me to stop―"

She interrupted him by capturing his lips a third time. "I might not," she breathed fervently.

That triggered him. He reached a hand into her hair and tilted her head to expose her neck. She felt a titillating murmur against it: "Then succumb to me, Orihime." His breath was hot on her flesh; she involuntarily shivered.

_My first name on his lips..._

Everything he did seemed to electrify her. She got lost in his kisses and his embrace. The bliss between them swallowed her whole. Her body was afire, desire burning her from her scalp to her toes. His touches and caresses were fuel.

Some dizzying moments later, she was lying face-up on her futon, with Ulquiorra hovering over her. Their bodies were flush and naked, their limbs tangled.

His palms, through a brief moment of hesitation on her end, were reassuring and protective against hers.

"Are you afraid?"

Orihime laughed breathily at the irony of the question. "A little..."

\- { - } -

_The moon stayed constant when everything else had been reborn. The patch of sky she was staring at, too, remained as gloomy as ever, dark and cold as if turning its back to her._

_She breathed hard, her panting the only sound meeting her ears. Her limbs were limp; energy-wise she was completely spent. And ability-wise, she was running on empty._

_Six dots of light appeared before her, all muttering to her with worry, all scared and confused. She couldn't blame them. What had she done? What had she fixed? How was she able to accomplish it all?_

_She could no longer make out their words_ _―_ _everything slurred together._

_She blinked exhaustedly. It was getting harder to see, but the action did not cure the blurriness._

_She was sweating, but the hair on her arms stood on end_ _―_ _it was gradually getting colder, and she figured that it wasn't because she was lying motionless against the cool grains of sand._

_Even if she shut her eyes, and even if her gasps for air blocked out everything else, her memories played over and over: the spell, the discovery thereafter, the pain in her heart. They flooded her mind, unstoppable and overwhelming although she had rejected the problem already._

I never meant to hurt them... so why do these thoughts still punish me...?

 _She didn't know if the Hougyoku was all-seeing, like an omniscient god, but she swore that she could envision what each person went through_ _―_ _the burning, the vaporizing... the fleeting instances of knowing what was about to happen but not being able to change it. She could pinpoint each individual's fate, from the charring of one's face to the contorted expression of another's._

_She had been incinerated as well; mentally._

God... _she prayed weakly, her breaths slowing down, growing shallower._

All of this... everything about this...

_Submitting to the fatigue, she let herself drift into the cold, peaceful darkness._

I just don't want to think about it anymore.

. .

Ulquiorra opened his eyes with a slight, puzzled gasp.

He couldn't rationalize why he would wake up in the middle of the night when his sleep felt so... _dreamless_. He wasn't the only one, though; the mass next to him shifted. His girlfriend rolled over to face him, an arm tucked under her head. In the dim moonlight from her window, Ulquiorra could make out her face, tranquil and loving. Her eyes fell to the area below his neck. With her free hand, she circled the bare area, where his Hollow hole used to be.

"Is something wrong?" he asked in a hoarse voice, although he should really be asking himself that, as well.

The buxom redhead smiled faintly. "Just making sure you were still here." She stopped abruptly, as if a sudden thought came to mind. "And that you're still... you." Orihime bent her head downward, kissing where her caressing fingers had been.

Ulquiorra laid a hand on her waist. "I have no reason to leave," he replied.

Despite her calm front, he was able to spot the tiniest furrow of her brow.

_Just when I thought it was over..._

He wished that he could outright stop the dreams for her.

"What is this in Spanish again?" she questioned, giving him another peck on his chest. " _Peso_?"

He snorted, the closest he has come to laughter thus far. "It's _beso_ ," Lazily, he rolled her onto her back, her body radiating a lovely luminescent periwinkle from the moonlight. He slid over her, his face close to hers as he eased one of her silky legs around him.

" _Y puedo darle mejor,_ " he breathed, the words rolling off his tongue with ease. He dove down to give her a harder _beso_ to quell her edginess, but after they broke away, a small frown returned to her face, her gaze somewhat listless.

_This woman..._

He traced his thumb over the downward arch of her bottom lip, watching it with concentrated fascination. "Was it about Hueco Mundo?" he asked her.

"No," she answered simply. She gave his wandering thumb a soft peck. "Don't worry about it, Urukkun."

He wanted to inquire more, but he knew that if Orihime didn't outright explain the rest, then it meant that she wasn't ready to reveal anymore; and he wasn't going to force her.

So, he relented with a short nod and sank back down into the covers. She readily snuggled into him, but for some reason, the movement felt more like a question of reassurance than nighttime comfort.

Ulquiorra let out a long sigh, gingerly stroking her long tresses. "Just think of me before you sleep, Orihime."

She let out a small hum in agreement and let her eyes flutter close. Her body, on the other hand...

_She is still restless._

His words did not soothe her.

\- { - } -

"Shuuuuheiiiii~!" playfully called a voice from outside Captain Hisagi Shuuhei's office. "Let's driiiiink~"

The tattooed man rolled his eyes. He really... _really_ didn't have time anymore for this.

"Hisagi-taichou!" he corrected Rangiku through the closed door. "And I'm busy!"

"Hah! I bet your desk is empty!" she responded impishly.

Shuuhei looked down at the dark mahogony where his elbows rested.

Right.

He scratched the back of his head, debating on whether or not he should have some _sake_ , or continue to stare into space in solitude like he has been doing for the past thirty minutes or so.

"Okay, you win this round," he muttered, more to himself than to Rangiku.

He opened the door, revealing an ungraceful strawberry blonde leaning drunkenly against the doorway, holding a bottle of dark wine.

"I never got to ask you this, but how were things down there, anyway?" Shuuhei asked her, taking two cups (he did not have wine glasses in his offices―he guessed the lieutenant just didn't think to bring any) and setting them down on his desk. "Did the Resurrected give the humans a hard time?"

She grinned mischievously and went to pouring. "Surprisingly, no." She took a thoughtful sip of wine. "In fact, something _developed_ between two certain people."

"I guess this concerns Inoue Orihime?" the captain surmised.

Rangiku flipped some wavy tresses over her shoulder. "Yes, and Ulquiorra Cifer. They're dating now."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?" He leaned back in his chair. "I mean, I remember her being defensive of him and the other Espadas, but―"

"It's love," she said with a dreamy smile. "Honest-to-goodness love, Shuuhei. It makes me a little envious."

He smirked at her. But before he could offer a dry, witty response, something suddenly crossed his mind.

Did he not see Rangiku already a few days ago? And didn't she say that she was going to Earth _for a while_ to check on the Resurrected again?

"Matsumoto..." Shuuhei began warily, his voice low and contemplative. "I thought you were going to the world of the living last night."

She glanced at him with a puzzled smile. "What? When did I say that?"

"Two days ago. You told _me_ because Hitsugaya went out to find that Hollow."

She laughed, oblivious to what he could be thinking. "You must've been drinking without me. I haven't seen you in a while."

 _What?_ "... Are you sure?"

Her drunken smile vanished, her following words more serious. "With all that's been going on _here_ , my captain wouldn't have wanted me to leave."

Shuuhei pursed his lips together, his frustration gradually progressing. How could he have been so blind? If a fake Gin came in to Soul Society, the first people on the scene would be Toushiro and those who had been the closest to the dead traitor―including Rangiku herself. It wouldn't have made sense for the lieutenant to just leave in the middle of all that.

To top it all off, Gin's reiatsu had disappeared recently; thus, it wasn't being masked, as originally thought by the other shinigami. Shuuhei realized that it could mean that he must have transformed into someone else, and that he could have easily been granted passage to the living world.

\- { - } -

For Orihime, life was finally starting to look up. She had a wonderful boyfriend, supportive friends, and planned to start the upcoming semester off on the right foot and with a clear, logical state of mind. She was definitely going to work hard with her studies, along with her combat skills, and forget about the things that depressed her.

Moreover, the next day was her birthday—September third. Surely, it was going to be a special one.

"I can do it!" she thought out loud with gusto, staring at the shelf of merchandise with determination. She lightly jabbed the display of notebooks directly in front of her, as if making a promise with them.

_Nightmares won't bring me down!_

"Orihime?"

She almost leaped out of her skin. "Urukkun?" she yelped, turning to the approaching figure. She hoped he didn't see her pumping herself up. "I thought you were busy with Urahara-san today!"

With a pleasant gaze, he dipped his head, choosing to greet her in another way.

Discreetly, her ash-colored eyes popped open in the midst of the kiss, a sensation jolting her with the strangest feeling.

_Huh?_

Something was very off about the way he pressed his lips against hers, but she had no idea what it could be. As far as she was concerned, they had no issues between them―not with their chemistry, their displays of affection, nor anything in-between. It was mystifying.

But if it was just her, she supposed it was dismissable.

He didn't seem to notice her uncertainty. "Are you free right now?" he asked her smoothly, without explaining himself.

She hoped her pause wasn't long enough to create suspicion. "... Sure!" Orihime gestured back to the shelf. "Just let me buy some things first."

He ran a loving hand through her hair and across her cheek. She ignored the part of her brain that wanted to recoil from his touch.

Honestly, what was wrong with her?

"Good," he muttered, smiling at her a little.

* * *

 

 

_. ._

_. .  
_

_. ._

**\- { RANDOM EXTRA SCENE #2 } -  
**  
_\- { introduction to human sexuality } -_

Ulquiorra was too far deep into the passion to turn back; he was drowning in Orihime: her flowery scent, the sounds she made, the warmth of her wonderful body...

"Urukkun," she panted, from out of the blue. "Wait a―oh!" He had bitten her neck gently, not paying heed to her.

He was about to dive for her lips again when he felt something square and plastic poke flatly against his forehead.

"..."

"U-Um..." she began awkwardly, catching her breath. "You.. need this..." She mumbled the last two-thirds of that sentence; he almost didn't hear her even though he was mere centimeters from her face.

 _She stopped me for a piece of plastic?_ he thought, slightly irritated. Nonetheless, he plucked the dreaded whatever-it-was out of her possession... and stared at it with a blank expression. Obviously, it was something circular inside plastic wrapping, but he didn't really know what the purpose of showing it to him _now_ was.

"What do I do with this?"

He had never seen his girlfriend's face turn redder than it did then.  
**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to interrupt the mood/flow of the montage of sorts in the chapter, so that's why the extra scene is there. Hah.
> 
>  _ex umbra in solem:_ Latin; "from the shadow into the light." (Damn, I suddenly really want to learn Latin. It's so beautiful to me for some reason. XD)
> 
>  _Y puedo darle mejor:_ Spanish; "And I can give you a better one." I used an online translator for this, so I'm sorry if it's not right. Pleeeeaese correct me if it's wrong, as I'm not a Spanish speaker.


	13. Warped Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Remember the pain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found out that Tia's name is actually Tier, according to the Bleach wikia... if that's a legit source (sorry, at the time of writing this, I have been mostly out of the loop on current Bleach; for all anime, actually). I'm too far in to the story to change her name from Tia, so it's going to stay.
> 
>  
> 
>  _ **Playlist:**_ "No Crime" by CxF; "Warped Reflection" by High and Mighty Color; "Sora Mo Taberu Hazu" by Spitz

  
_\- { perfection } -_

_There was a smile stretched widely across his face, but it wasn't fond—it was sharp and demonic. She couldn't turn away, not from the man whose once endearing face morphed into something so terrifying. He was a monster ready to kill his prey._

_She felt a cold single finger run down the front of her throat, the touch careful, as if feeling for the bumps along the way. She shivered out of fright._

_The frigid green orbs grew larger as he leaned in, angling his face as if to kiss her. But instead of one, she felt a searing pain below the base of her neck, and the warm, oozing sensation trickling down her chest. It was no longer easy to breathe._

_She didn't know what was happening, but she was too afraid to look down, not because of what she might see there, but because of what else could happen if she dared to turn away from him._

_The pain reached her veins, and subsequently, throughout her entire body. His fingers dug effortlessly into her skin and through her ribs. All she was able to do was stand petrified, her arms straight down her sides._

_His hand grasped at something inside of her... and squeezed._

_She felt death draw closer than ever before. She was surprised she wasn't falling right this second._

_He finally retreated, literally pulling her heart from her arteries. Through blurred, fading vision, she saw the bloody organ, the dripping blood stark against his pale, porcelain skin._

_This was the end for her. This was the end for them. She should have felt the resounding heartache for Ulquiorra, but everything was already becoming so cold and unfeeling..._

_"This heart," he muttered, his baritone beautiful, but so, so cold; full of frosty apathy. "It is in my hand."_

_Numb, she barely felt her body slump to the ground._

_But she distinctly remembered her world going black._

\- { - } -

"Let's get ice cream again!" Orihime declared in a sing-song voice, pulling his hand along in the direction of the nearest ice cream shop as soon as they arived in the moderately busy shopping district.

However, Ulquiorra, for some reason, seemed reluctant. "Ice cream?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah!" she said, and frowned as she came to a stop. "Are you not in the mood for any?"

He paused for a second. "I suppose I'm not."

"Oh... all right."

Was it just her, or was he a little... colder than usual?

She looked around. "Well, what do you want to do―ooh, you need to learn about music!" she cheered, spotting a music store across from them. Once again, she began to lead him.

But also once again, he pulled back, refusing to follow.

She turned to him, now a smidgeon irritated. "What's wrong?" she asked, exasperated. "You don't want to do that, either?"

For some reason, the gaze cutting boldly into her was unsettling. "I think I would rather just spend quiet alone time with you."

Did he have something to tell her? Or was he just in the mood for a slower-paced setting? "Okay," she finally said with a small, puzzled smile. "Lead the way, Urukkun."

Rather roughly, he tugged her along as they walked the streets of Karakura. He didn't seem to pay heed to others around him. In fact, he didn't seem to do so for _anything_ but their destination. The feel of her hand in his felt unfamiliar, like she was holding someone else's. Moreover, Ulquiorra didn't once speak to her, much less look at her.

It was a cold feeling, and it hurt her a little, but she reasoned that maybe something was wrong, or that he was in a bad mood and wanted to find some serenity in being with her. It got her hopes up... at least, somewhat.

. .

Orihime didn't recognize where exactly they were―she had been so deep in her musings that she lost track of the way coming here.

It was an abandoned place of some kind―a rusted, rectangular facility that probably once served as an office building. The wood boarded up against the windows was beginning to come off, and only nailed edges of two-by-fours remained on the doors. She guessed that some vagrants had attempted to stay overnight there numerous times.

It was a strange place to take her, _especially_ for Ulquiorra. He wasn't the type to wander the city for no reason. If he wanted somewhere quiet, he would have taken her to his home, or asked to go to hers...

"Orihime? Is something wrong?"

The redhead turned to the one standing with her, her expression pensive. Slowly, her eyes lifted to meet his. But as emerald green and beautiful as they always were, she realized that they didn't look at her with love. They were poison―the stare intent on killing her slowly and relishing every second of it.

An image of Ichimaru Gin flickered across her mind.

 _... And that dream of Ulquiorra-kun..._ Her heart sank in realization. And like an alarm, her nerves sent an anxious sense of dread up her spine.

 _This isn't Ulquiorra-kun_.

Maybe it was why his kiss felt wrong; why his stares made her hair stand on end, and not in a thrilling way.

_It's not him... this is...!_

"... You aren't my boyfriend," she whispered in a shaking voice. She thought that this Hollow was dead. He should have been after that fight in Hueco Mundo. And _oh god,_ she had _kissed_ him without realizing that he was a terrible, disgusting fake.

He smirked and gently laid a hand on top of her head. "What are you fretting over? Of course I am―"

With a scornful expression, Orihime swatted his hand away with one of hers, and with the other, let her flattened hand fly across his face.

The fake Ulquiorra's head snapped to the side. Although his hair covered her view of his face, she could tell that he didn't seem emotionally affected by the slap.

"How terrible," he finally spoke up, rather airily as he faced her once more. "Is this how you treat someone you love?" His voice no longer contained the gentle inflection of which she was accustomed. His cover was starting to give.

"I wouldn't dare hurt Ulquiorra," she sputtered, her gray eyes fiery. "You, on the other hand..."

He finally allowed his mask of kindness to totally slip, and she wholly saw the evil that resided within. "I guess you aren't as ditzy as I thought you would be."

She should make the first move. It would be a piece of cake. She had the power of the Hougyoku, as well as the abilities of the Shun Shun Rikka. She couldn't lose.

Her inner hesitance begged to differ, however.

How easy was it, really, to attack someone who looked like someone she cared about deeply? Slapping him was one thing, but to use her _powers_?

"Show yourself," Orihime challenged, her voice barely trembling as she raised her voice to a more threatening volume. "Your true self!"

"That would make the fight too easy." He pointed a finger at her. A yellow beam of light flew out, faster than she anticipated. Orihime was barely able to dodge out of the way. His attack created more distance between them; it was hard to discern whether that was bad or not.

"What do you want?"

"It's obvious," he told her. "To consume you and your vast power. With it, I can not only destroy your friends much more easily with the guise of your pretty little face, but be the most powerful Hollow in Hueco Mundo _and_ the world of the living."

She gritted her teeth, letting her fists clench until her knuckles turned white.

"You haven't tried to attack yet," he said, walking slowly to her. His posture was as self-righteous as the old Ulquiorra had once been. "Is this too hard? As you said, I'm not your boyfriend."

"..."

"So, can you look into these eyes? Hear this voice? ... And still want kill me?"

The tainted emerald eyes fixed themselves on hers mockingly, making fun of her strength, her resolve. The real Ulquiorra would never laugh at her like this.

"You give him a bad name," she uttered bravely, and shot Tsubaki forth.

The fairy missed by an inch, the Hollow simply tilting his head one way to avoid the attack. "I guess I take that back," the Hollow said with an intrigued blink.

She pursed her lips together, angry that the move didn't connect.

"Stockholm Syndrome, Woman," the fake Ulquiorra drawled with a sly tone, changing subjects. "Do you know what that is?"

"Stockholm Syndrome," Orihime echoed unsurely.

"It is where the one who was kidnapped falls in love with his or her captor, assimilating to his beliefs, falling for every ugly word he said; all while abandoning his or her friends, his or her true heroes," he continued without a flinch. He smiled. "Maybe you don't _really_ love him. Maybe it is your learned helplessness that caused your attachment."

With deft speed, she encased a _Fushokuten Shishun_ dome around him. Bits of angry yellow-white electricity crackled around it, vaguely reminiscent of the first time she ever summoned the glowing beast.

This was her heart―livid.

"That," she hissed, "is a lie."

Orihime had never once tried to submit to the old Ulquiorra. She had defied him, slapped him, argued with him, and although she started to see beyond his cold exterior and into the _human_ nature dwelling secretly underneath, she never lost herself in the process.

The Hollow's eyes turned wide with mad glee. He was enjoying this―her animosity, the heat of her reiatsu emanating onto him, the omen of his prison. "This is not real. You are a lost little girl with no backbone. Your love is a delusion."

Her reiatsu buzzed around her, calming and tensing her at the same time. Anger strung her along like a marionette, guiding her to finish the job. "Everything we've felt for each other up to now is real," she defended herself in an even voice. "Don't act as if you know me!"

His smile widened, until it transformed into a deep, reverberating laugh. "But I do!" he snickered. His voice was slick, way too proud for her liking. "I know everything! I've consumed enough to understand it all!"

She hated to admit it, but judging from the fight Hueco Mundo... there was a chance he could be right. He even seemed to be quite aware of Orihime's capabilities, to the point that he knew about the Hougyoku and what she has done with it... but how?

_No. That's not important. I need to finish this._

She concentrated her gray gaze on the dome and the Hollow standing calmly within.

It will end now.

_Fushokuten Shishun..._

"I reject!" she yelled.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra suddenly woke up with a start, his eyes flying open like someone had splashed cold water onto him. Removing the inventory log (that he had been using to calculate Kisuke's commodities) covering his face, he sat up with wild alertness.

Across from him at the dining room table, in the midst of gorging on a cup of instant ramen, Grimmjow tossed him a puzzled look. "What's with you?" he asked with a full mouth. "You look so... _emotional_."

Ulquiorra sighed groggily and set the notebook down on the table. "I don't know," he replied truthfully.

The two of them had been helping Kisuke with inventory throughout most of the afternoon, and it was only now they had finished. Grimmjow chose to celebrate by chowing down, while Ulquiorra opted for a nap right on the spot.

"Che, don't tell me you're getting nightmares, too," Grimmjow remarked. "Spending way too much time with Princesa."

It wasn't a dream that had awakened him. Ulquiorra knew that much.

Just then, Kisuke sauntered into the room. He seemed honestly surprised for some reason. "Ulqui-kun," he spoke up, tilting his head slightly to the side. "You're still here? I was sure you left."

"Grimmjow and I have both been here since we finished our chores," Ulquiorra told him wearily. He motioned to the notebook with his eyes.

"Huh." The shop owner blinked with puzzlement. "Just a moment ago, I sensed you somewhere else. I thought there was something wrong with your gi―" He froze, and the room turned oddly quiet. It was a heavy, thoughtful silence.

"Ulqui-kun," Kisuke suddenly announced, deceptively calm. But it was easy to see through. "Come with me. We have something to attend to." From his sleeve, he produced a palm-sized, bar-like device with puffy, round buttons.

"We have _what_ to attend to?" Ulquiorra questioned warily. Gut instinct told him it was about Orihime. It was _always_ about Orihime. But he wasn't sure if he was just worrying over nothing―even though he knew from past experience that tension like this always arose because something happened to her, thus making him anxious.

He hated the feeling. Things were easier when emotion wasn't involved, but it was so hard now to withhold them.

"What the hell?" Grimmjow piped up, not liking the idea of being left out. "Why can't I go, too?" He pointed at the silver device. "And what the fuck's that?"

"My Hougyoku Teleporter," he said with ease, as if he has always had it hidden within his clothing, which he probably did not. It seemed like another brand-new prototype with an incredibly short lifespan. "It senses the Hougyoku and takes us within range of it (or so, I think) in case of danger―meaning, you know, Orihime-chan's location."

This man had a _tracking device_ for _his girlfriend_? Ulquiorra refrained from punching his guardian. That and destroying the dreadful object would have to wait until after they took care of business.

"A what?" Grimmjow muttered dumbly. "What's with you and defying physics?"

"Oh? You know what physics is? So human already~"

"Look, I'm not stupid!"

"So this _does_ have to do with my woman," Ulquiorra interjected in a powerful voice, interrupting the banter. "That is why you singled me out, Urahara Kisuke."

Kisuke cleared his throat, back to business. "Yes, it is. So―"

"I suggest we get going," the dark-haired one snapped, already on his feet. "If she is danger, we cannot afford to waste time."

"Alright, alright!" Kisuke quipped and pressed the red button in the middle.

\- { - } -

Her eyes stung with angry tears. One lonely drop glided down her cheek and hit her shirt, but other than that, there was no movement.

On either side.

The Hollow looked disappointed, the doppleganger's unamused stare a spitting image of the real Ulquiorra's.

"You didn't follow through," he stated blankly. And yet, it seemed like he expected it.

Orihime squeezed her extended hand into a fist and dropped it to her side. She knew that; she _knew_. But even though the person in front of her was fake, it was so hard to see that face―

. .

 _"_ _Are you afraid, Onna?"_

 _"_ _No. I'm not afraid."_

_She reached for him, in a manner of forgiveness; in a manner of sharing her heart._

_But she could only stare, haunted, as he faded away._

_. ._

She shut her eyes briefly to suppress the sad memory.

"What are we waiting for?" he uttered airily, taunting her. "Does this appearance give you cold feet?"

Orihime mentally kicked herself for stalling so much, but the image of causing that same fate to a face she adored so much daunted her, no matter whose soul it was. "Why do you know so much about me?" she asked instead.

The emerald depths penetrated through every one of her defenses, piercing her until fear rose out of her. They were more dangerous than Ulquiorra's had ever been; a cold burn against her heart.

"Let's just say that you left something behind when your friends took you out of Hueco Mundo," he answered mysteriously.

She didn't understand.

"Do you know what radiation does to a human body? Namely, after a nuclear catastrophe?"

Orihime frowned. Of course she did. "It can change your genes, your body, a number of things..." Her mind was _trying_ to tie things together, but nothing seemed to quite make sense.

"So, say that you used an unbelievable amount of power," the Hollow continued. "And it exploded, so to speak. That what you did affected the air around Hueco Mundo, that the lingering energy mutated some things, that some parts of your energy became part of it―parts of _you_ remain there."

Was he comparing her to a _bomb_? "I-I don't under―"

"All because you tried to bring everything back again," he interrupted, a slow, sinister smile spreading across his features, the expression on the fake Ulquiorra akin to Aizen Sousuke's. "And a bit messily, at that―actually, I say you partially failed.

"So how do the new Hollows coming into Hueco Mundo cope? Thanks to you, the evolution of some lucky Hollows to something more powerful didn't take long." He gestured grandly to himself. "Look at me. I'm the first Vasto Lorde since your disaster."

None of this should be plausible; none of it should be possible. It _couldn't_ be true. She was just one girl! She couldn't change an entire world! Sure, she didn't know why the corrosion spell existed in the first place, but she thought it was only because trying to reject the Hougyoku it came to be.

So why was she frozen in place out of horror? Why wasn't her heart agreeing with the logic she forced herself to believe?

"And I'm attracted to your power. That was how I found you." The Ulquiorra that stood before her remained collected, continuing to break and confuse her. "So... would you like to kill me now?" he asked her.

He took a few footsteps toward her. Each one felt like a possible step closer to the truth.

"Or... would you like to know _everything_? Because believe me, I'm not done." His eyes seemed to sparkle with sadistic excitement. "You really should've left everyone for dead. I can't wait to take in your terror when you hear all the details of how you _killed_ _―"_

Something in her snapped.

_I killed nobody!_

Tsubaki flashed before the Hollow and charged.

But it hit the chest of the Hollow and bounced back. The resilient little fairy somersaulted backwards from the impact, but regained balance as he neared his mistress.

_Oh, no..._

"You do know that ain't your man, right?" Tsubaki hissed as he hovered near her face.

"I know..." she whispered. "I'm sorry―"

"Then close your eyes when you aim, Woman!" He floated directly in front of her. "You can do this! Put your _heart_ into it!"

With renewed determination, she did as Tsubaki suggested. With one hand, she covered her eyes, blocking her from the sight of Ulquiorra. With the other, she pointed straight ahead.

On her command, Tsubaki torpedoed himself at the Hollow again.

She wasn't sure what happened next, but it didn't go as planned.

_Thuck._

Tiny speckles of crimson splashed against her cheek.

The hand over her eyes dropped; she gasped mutely, the breath knocked out of her as something sharp and big plowed through her stomach from behind.

With widened eyes, she dared to look down.

A golden yellow, tentacle-like appendage with hardened fur protruded from her, accompanied by the flood of red pouring down her body.

Orihime sank to her knees. The numbing shock turned into overwhelming, paralyzing pain. Her eyes stung with tears.

When the tentacle slid out of her torso, she heavily hit the concrete, into the puddle of warm red liquid that was already waiting. Her heart pumped frantically, trying to keep her alive... but it was so hard to breathe, much less move.

Her dulling gaze lingered on the set of familiar, but _un_ familiar feet in front of her. They shifted slightly to support their owner's weight as he knelt down.

"Remember what you did," he hissed, practically spitting at her. She felt fingers twist themselves into her hair in a taut grip―so tight that she felt like he was going to pull her scalp off her head. He then quickly slammed her head back into the pavement. There was a searing, torturous jolt of pain. Blood ran down her forehead and joined the rest of the sticky pool.

 _"_ _Remember the pain."_

Suddenly, a hot flash of light, like an atomic bomb, streaked painfully across her mind. She found herself squeezing her eyes shut even though the brightness was only in her head.

Her brain abruptly adjusted to a mental vision of a familiar yellow dome, its surrounding ribbons of lightning crackling dangerously. She could almost feel their electric currents.

Her thoughts and senses, she realized, were no longer in Karakura. She wasn't lying close to death in a parking lot of an abandoned office building. She no longer felt her dire injuries.

_What is this?_

Like a movie being fast-forwarded at warp speed, all of her past dreams and nightmares strung themselves together like a morbid montage. There was also a fleeting instance of white, tower-like structures disintegrating, as easily as a child destroying a sand castle on the beach. The collage of the rumble of catastrophe, the buzz of her magic, and the mysterious screams of the dying were only murmurs compared to the Hollow's words scarring themselves into her brain; branding her with his voice like hot iron.

_"Even though your powers rejected what you did, you were the one who changed the balance of Hueco Mundo."_

_NO! I REJECT THIS!_

Another awful flash of white brought her back to the present.

She was instantly greeted by cool September air, a drastic change from the hotness of those images. She tasted more blood on her lips; her nose had bled. The puddle below hadn't really dried; the flashback must've only been a few seconds long.

A piercing wave of pain crashed through her, reminding her of her wounds. She pursed her lips together to mutely let the ache pass through.

With a silent command, she summoned the appropriate fairies to reject her injuries, and fast. But as she continued to lie weakly against the pavement, she discovered there was a prominent presence missing.

That Hollow was gone. Undefeated, at that.

Did he just disappear into thin air? Was he able to do that in Hueco Mundo? Was that how he survived the fight with her team in the desert?

 _No,_ she thought, her glazed eyes blinking back new tears―ones of anger. She had let the Hollow touch her, to screw with her head and weaken her... and she let him _easily_ get away. It was like their fight was a joke, and she was the butt of it.

She was stronger than this...

Her hand fisted air, a furious squeeze that might as well wrench her heart and pride, too.

\- { - } -

Kisuke, Ulquiorra, and Grimmjow ended up in an area of Karakura Ulquiorra wasn't familiar with. That didn't matter, however, as Ulquiorra began to faintly feel the signature of something bright, curative, and yellow... however, weary.

"Onna," he mumbled, recognizing it immediately. He ran ahead.

Several minutes later, they came upon the faded concrete parking area surrounding an abandoned rectangular building.

A fiery-haired girl was lying in the middle of the lot, her back to them. There was a drying puddle of blood nearby. Although he couldn't see her injuries, a foreign, heartwrenching fear he didn't know existed rushed through him.

His steps quickened as he hurried to her side. "Orihime," he whispered, cautiously touching her arm. After looking her over, he found himself sighing with relief. It was clear that she had healed herself.

He was eternally grateful for her Shun Shun Rikka.

Orihime groaned as he sat her up and propped her against him. From a small distance, Kisuke and Grimmjow merely watched.

"Are you all right?" he asked her with subtle concern.

She turned her head, his eyes catching hers. It was unusual, though... to discover a sharp distrust in the gray pools.

As if not recognizing him, she pushed at his chest, forcing him away. He found himself stumbling back onto his rear.

A short sense of astonishment crept over him, his heart twisting ever so slightly at the bitter gesture. His eyes carefully looked to hers. The rage was peculiar on the healer's face―it was almost like she wore a mask.

"Orihime..." he drawled unsurely, unmoving. "What are you doing?"

There was a logical explanation for this; there had to be. There was no reason to doubt her love.

And fortunately, just as quickly as the push, Orihime's eyes rapidly softened―dramatic, like she had come out of a dark spell.

"Oh, god..." she breathed apologetically. After remembering where she was and who these people were, she rushed forward. She threw her arms around Ulquiorra desperately, burying her face into him. "Urukkun, I'm sorry―I thought you―I thought..." She faltered, too concentrated on the familiar warmth of his body to finish. She clinged tighter, fisting his shirt in her hands.

Ulquiorra ran his hand consolingly down her back, while using his other to balance her weight against him.

Although that unexplainable anger was gone, she now seemed frightened. He nuzzled delicately into her soft hair, comforting her, his mouth close to her ear. "What happened?" he asked in a hushed voice.

He felt her chest draw out, a soft sigh taking its time in escaping her. Orihime was being hesitant.

His nose grazed her as he moved his head, to let his lips touch her cheek with encouragement. "Orihime."

She had a reluctant frown as she spoke. "... He shapeshifted into you..."

He lifted his head to glare, but not at her. His eyes were focused on the two who came with him, his stern green eyes silently inquisitive, disbelieving. Grimmjow scowled, but carried no expression in his eyes; Kisuke seemed somewhat concerned, but with his head lowered, shadowed by his hat, the former Fourth couldn't tell what else he was thinking.

"What?" Ulquiorra asked Orihime curtly. "The Hollow that you fought before? I thought it had been defeated a long time ago."

She didn't respond.

"I guess the Hollow had pulled some trick back there; it _is_ Vasto Lorde, after all," Kisuke chimed in, inserting himself into the conversation. He looked toward the blood, and then toward the girl in Ulquiorra's arms. "I imagine that shapeshifting into Ulqui-kun would psychologically traumatize Ori―"

"I'll be fine soon enough, Urahara-san," Orihime suddenly broke in, not willing to admit weakness. "I just need a bit of time to recover."

He shut his mouth, hesitant to argue against her. From past experience, doubting her didn't end well.

It was easy for Ulquiorra to tell that she was lying. He knew every pitch in her voice, every speck in her eyes―and the cloudy, gray depths were full of mental disturbance. However, he went against calling her out on it. It would be easier for him ask her about it later when they were alone.

"Urukkun?"

Ulquiorra automatically turned to her. As soon as their eyes met, she brought her face to his, letting their lips lock for a thoughtful second.

He remained motionless, unsure of the reason for the abrupt kiss. It was hardly the appropriate time.

Noticing his lack of reaction, she hung her head, a little embarrassed. "Just double-checking," she offered in meek explanation. At the confounded expression in his eyes, she added, quite unwillingly, "When I thought the Hollow was you..."

The trail-off was suspicous.

But after letting it register a moment further, he at last came to an angering conclusion.

"That trash kissed you," he rasped, his liquid emeralds smoldering like lava.

How _dare_ that Hollow lay any part of his body on this woman and fake the love both Ulquiorra and Orihime took so seriously? How _dare_ he hurt her? _How dare he?_

Grimmjow and Kisuke exchanged looks, definitely feeling the tension coming from Ulquiorra, but not intercepting.

She put a a steady hand against his face, her thumb lightly caressing a tear-like scar. "I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I should have realized it sooner." Her other hand cupped his other cheek, but her solace hardly affected him. He simply wanted to _kill_ that Hollow and have this mess over with―whether he had powers or not.

"Ulquiorra-kun," she tenderly called again, her brows etched in worry.

Fiery green met rueful gray. "You have _nothing_ to apologize for," he finally muttered, his tone shorter than intended. "That Hollow _assaulted_ you."

She shook her head, as her hands slid down from his face, away from him, and back to her own lap. That sorrowful look didn't go away, and it really frustrated him.

"Not exactly..." she murmured slowly. "There was a time when I ignored my instincts, even when they yelled at me from the very beginning. I thought I was paranoid from my nightmares..." Her voice became tiny. "I'm sorry."

He stared at her, displeased. Her words had offended him. "Onna..." he mumbled exasperatedly, but then went silent.

He didn't want to imagine strange hands in hers, nor foreign lips pressed against hers. But what kind of person would he be if he _blamed her_ , even if she insisted it? He trusted her, and with that inner reassurance, his temperament simmered, dwelling lukewarmly in his gut. "I told you," he muttered. "You do not have anything to apologize for."

"But you're angry."

"Of course I am," he responded with a rough tone. "I do not condone anyone else touching you with so much familiarity."

She averted her gaze.

"Orihime-chan," Kisuke spoke up, disquieted. "Please let Ulqui-kun walk you home. He needs to cool down. Grimm-kun and I will head back on our own."

She nodded glumly and stood up, Ulquiorra following suit. Without any extravagant goodbyes, the couple made their way back to Orihime's.

. .

Through the entirety of the trip back, neither spoke.

Orihime was lost in thought. It was apparent that something happened, but as usual, she didn't say anything, much to his annoyance.

"Onna, you cannot keep bottling things up," he reprimanded her as they reached the top of the stairs.

"..."

"I am here for you," he reminded her. "Have you not learned _anything_ fro―"

"He did something," she broke in reluctantly, complying to him, "that rushed all these memories back into my head."

He watched her without expression, waiting for her to continue.

"It felt like my entire head was on fire. I heard and saw things that weren't there... I don't remember anything about them, but they felt familiar." She laid a hand on the doorknob reflectively. "How can someone like me change a world? And why?"

He barely heard the last words they were so soft.

"I'm just _me_ , Ulquiorra-kun," she went on in a hushed tone, swept up by emotion. Her hand tensed, squeezing the doorknob. "I don't want that kind of attention. I can't be a god anymore. I _can't_."

Ulquiorra's irritation quickly fizzled, his heart sinking in guilt as he thought back to his own views of her. He had called her just that, didn't he? A fairy goddess― _his god_... the one who saved him, both physically and mentally.

But as he came to fall for her, he grew to learn the difference between the worship for a god and love for someone. In the beginning, he sought repayment and put her on a pedestal she didn't ask for. It was that exact thing that sent her drifting away in the first place; he later regretted letting her think it was the only reason he cared.

Yet to see this human girl smile, act the way she always acted―to see her just be _her_ and not an all-powerful being in the sky who atoned his sins―gave him a fuller feeling of satisfaction than anything else.

"You don't have to be a god," he told her quietly. "I don't expect that of you. Neither do Grimmjow nor Tia."

"You're only saying that," she countered doubtfully. "All these things you say about me―about how forgiving I am, how strong my power is―aren't those what make me perfect?" Her gray depths skimmed the doorframe.

 _Perfect,_ of course, was a word that had no absolute meaning to it; it held a subjective one, and there were a lot of those. There was no such thing as _perfection_ , per se, but he knew what his own view of it was.

Sometimes a meaning depended on the heart.

"Of course not. You are perfect because you are _Inoue Orihime_ ," he told her, a touch harsh. "You are overwhelmingly hard on yourself, have terrible taste in food, and have a strange, senseless thinking process, but you are _perfect_ in my eyes, nonetheless―powers or not."

Her breath hitched sharply at the word, pricked by a thin needle of understanding.

"I praise you because I believe those comments to be true," he continued. "And I respect you because of _who you are_ as a human being. I do not exaggerate, nor am I being biased because you are my woman.

"I apologize for past comments and thoughts about your being a god," he added. "Yes, I greatly admire your powers, as well, but it now holds little weight compared to why I..." He paused, a heavy thump in his heart stilling him.

Ulquiorra suddenly found himself caught up in her sad gaze, those glassy eyes consuming him. Staring at them, the tearing and dirt on her clothes, and the scuffing on her shoes, he realized how close he had been to losing her. The idea of her being abandoned and bleeding to death scared him greatly, even if she was able to reject her wounds.

She had nearly been killed, but she had been the one to calm _him_ down while he was full of selfish anger.

Such details made him realize that it was so _petty_ in comparison.

"Why you what?" she prodded softly.

Without warning, Ulquiorra tugged her by the arm. She tripped into him, his name bursting out of her mouth in slight surprise.

When she softly hit his chest, he lowered his head. Cradling the side of her face with one hand, he buried his eyes into her beautiful, sweet-smelling hair, his lips against her ear. "Why I love you," he whispered to her, with a rare degree of tenderness.

_In the truest essence of the word._

He felt her face turn hot. "Ulquiorra-kun..." she breathed, sounding bewildered.

"I apologize for my behavior earlier today," he went on in that same tone. "I could have lost you―and all I concerned myself with then was..."

Her arms slipped around his waist, in a way that silently accepted his apology. She breathed in gently, taking in his scent. "No one can take me away from you," she reassured him. She hid into him further, as if intent on getting completely absorbed in the embrace, and finished in a small voice, "I love you, too."

Warmed by her love for him, he allowed himself a smile. Almost simultaneously, he felt her lips curve upward as well.

"We will find that enemy and you will kill him," he stated with quiet encouragement. "That _thing_ will no longer bring you down physically nor mentally. You may not be a _god_ , but you are still a strong-spirited woman.

"But until you come across him again, I request that you enjoy yourself tomorrow."

She blinked at the odd change of subject. "Request?" she repeated. Her tone sounded playful. "Really... Urukkun-sama?"

Only she would give him two honorifics at once. "Yes," he replied, a teasing edge in his velvet tone. With the urge to kiss that lovely smile, he gracefully bent down and pressed his lips to hers. "I expect you to follow through, Orihime."

She nodded at him peacefully, content with his support. "Okay."

\- { - } -

On September third, Orihime intended to fulfill Ulquiorra's 'request.' Today, she was going to set aside her problems, _celebrate_ her birthday, and enjoy being with her nakama. Unless that Hollow dared to interrupt her fun, she was going to relax.

After lunch and mall time with Tatsuki, she made her way to the shop, impatient to see Ulquiorra. She has been yearning his company a lot more lately, and wasn't _quite_ sure why. Was it because they've gotten intimate, connecting at the very deepest level? Or maybe it was just time passing by, letting them grow closer as the days went? She didn't know, but she thought about him constantly.

Ulquiorra was outside with Yoruichi when she arrived. He seemed to have been waiting for her; dressed to impress at that. The black jeans were crisp in color and new, and the fitted, sea-green shirt teased her with the muscled torso underneath it, along with a peek of his collarbones, exposed by the buttons undone at top.

She anxiously smoothed out her lavender dress. It was something she found it for relatively cheap a while back. It was more casual than cocktail, and modest rather than showy, but she decided that it was nice enough to save for a day like this―for him, in particular.

Whatever conversation he and Yoruichi were having ceased immediately. Ulquiorra turned to her. "Orihime," he greeted mildly, with controlled eagerness.

"Happy birthday!" Yoruichi said warmly.

Orihime bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Yoruichi-san."

Ulquiorra's eyes traveled over her figure carefully, drinking in the sight. She suddenly felt self-conscious.

"You look beautiful..." he finally uttered, a bit stunned. The words stumbled with spontaneity, rare as it was. He usually spoke as if his words were always planned out, and if he did speak his mind, he did so eloquently. To hear him so flustered by her made her heart melt.

"Hm... I guess I'll leave you two alone," the cat said with a chuckle, seeing how glued their eyes were to each other. She excused herself, heading into the shop.

Wafting around Ulquiorra was an alluring musky scent, and she wished she could thank whoever gave him cologne. The smell that surrounded her was enticing and sexy, luring her into him; she couldn't escape it if she tried.

He glided his hand down Orihime's curvaceous side until it rested against her hip. He kissed her serenely. _Happy birthday, Orihime_ , it said, without him having to verbalize anything.

"Thank you," she replied with a giggle. "Urukkun."

He blinked, puzzled, then smirked knowingly. "Thank you? For the kiss?"

Whoops. She had meant to reply in her head, but she guessed that backfired. "Um... yeah!" she drawled merrily. "Thank you for kissing me!"

"You're a strange woman," he commented softly, with affection. Something tingled when his emerald gaze caught hers; the spark between them was more invigorating than ever.

She was happy.

He grasped her hand. "I have something for you," he spoke up, changing subjects. "Come."

She clumsily followed behind as he briskly led her inside the shop and toward his room. When they reached his door, he lifted her wrists, palm side against her face, and blindfolded her. "Wait here."

Orihime was glad that her cheeks were hidden along with her eyes, because she was blushing furiously with anticipation. With it being her birthday, she had figured Ulquiorra would treat her more special than usual, but for him to be so considerate like this... it was wonderful.

While he stepped away to retrieve her gift, she heard him speak, briefly making conversation. "Did you enjoy your day with Arisawa Tatsuki?"

"Yup!" she replied merrily, but then puffed out a cheek with puzzlement. "She seemed to be in a hurry by the time we were done, though. I guess she had other plans?"

He considered her words in silence before answering. "I see."

She heard lithe footfalls approach. The shadow of her boyfriend loomed over her as something fuzzy tickled her arms. Reflexively, she flinched, and lowered her hands.

Her eyes, radiating with awe, did not dare blink as Ulquiorra held a cream-colored plush bear toward her. It was around nine inches tall and looked quite soft. Its stern-looking, half-moon-shaped eyes were black with green irises, and she couldn't help but giggle at them, along with the little accessory it wore. "Bat wings?" she observed, taking the toy in her arms.

"That was the idea of Kurosaki Ichigo and Grimmjow," he scoffed, seemingly bitter by the addition.

Orihime figured it was safe to assume that Ichigo and Grimmjow had helped him with her present. It blew her away; all three had once hated each other, with Ulquiorra hating Ichigo most of all, but throughout the Resurrecteds' time here, she knew that many things have changed for the better.

"They asked Ishida Uryuu to commission that unnecessary detail," Ulquiorra was saying, continuing his explanation, "despite my protests. Clearly, they did not listen."

She stood on her tiptoes and angled upward to kiss his cheek, her lips lying delicately against a vertical scar. "I love it, Urukkun."

"... Well, for your sake, I'm glad it paid off." His fingers stroked her long locks, a tender action that had become a habit of his. "I understand that these stuffed idols make girls and children happy for some odd reason."

Idols? She beamed with amusement. How archaic. "Just call them plushies. Or stuffed animals."

He lowered his hand. "Plush...ies...?" From the mild disdain on his facial features, she could tell that he didn't like the childish terminology.

Squeezing the bear close, she tilted her head up at him. "Now what? Do we get to eat?" she asked hopefully.

"You're already hungry?" he questioned, raising a brow.

She scratched the back of her head, slightly embarrassed.

But well, she was.

He ran a hand through his own hair and sighed. "... It seems I left something at your place the other day. I must retrieve that before we go anywhere."

Her face was a huge question mark. "Eh? This all of a sudden?" she wondered incredulously. She didn't remember him taking anything out of his pockets the last time he visited her... "What could you have possibly left there?"

Without answering, Ulquiorra took her hand and began to lead her out of the shop.

"Is it your wallet?" she asked him puzzledly as they came back outside. When he didn't reply, she frowned and lightly hit him with the stuffed bear. "Urukkun! I can pay! You don't get a lot of allowance from Urahara-san, anyway."

"I will not allow you to do that," he berated, almost sounding insulted.

"But..." She lapsed into silence.

Ulquiorra was being stubborn. He didn't look like he was about to reconsider.

She couldn't help but think that it was unusual for him to forget anything. He had eyes like a hawk, so he would have remembered _everything_ he had taken out; down to the angle it sat in.

A part of her suddenly panicked.

"Urukkun?" she asked meekly, midway down the sidewalk.

Emerald-colored eyes shifted to her.

"This is a stupid question, something I should've figured out already, anyway―oh, I know I shouldn't be _talking_ about this today, either―but, um," she rambled in a timid voice, "are you... _you_?"

Ulquiorra came to a stop at the upcoming street corner, without vocalizing his affirmation.

She frowned. "U―"

All of a sudden, he hooked his arm around her by the shoulders and pulled her in. She softly slammed into him, her new toy nearly falling from her hands.

Their eyes met yet again, but she was granted no time to read them, for he crashed his mouth upon hers. The kiss was powerful enough to have her drowning into him. She clung to his shirt desperately as his tongue parted her mouth, fluidly entering and moving sensually against hers. For the moment, Orihime forgot where she was.

He let go abruptly, leaving her breathless and somewhat dissatisfied; she was kind of hoping for more.

Even though his mouth didn't curve one way or the other, Ulquiorra looked rather smug about the way he kissed her. "Does that answer your question?" he asked her airily.

She managed a weak nod, practically using him as support as she walked on jelly-legs the rest of the way.

. .

Going to the apartment wasn't what she expected at all. She _knew_ there was something off about Ulquiorra's wallet story, and as soon as she opened the door, she realized why.

Her friends had given her a surprise party; the first she has ever had, and probably one of the best moments in her life. Nothing could describe the appreciation she had for her precious nakama. Nothing else could cause the kinds of tears she shed then―the kind that brimmed from overwhelming happiness.

She was thankful.

And now, after an extravagant dinner that resulted in a happy and stuffed birthday girl, it was time for some fun―card games and conversation.

It was refreshing to see Ulquiorra converse with other people―as in, actually _speaking_ with them instead of keeping to himself or spending all his time with only her. She loved seeing him befriend her other ones. In fact, she loved seeing all of the Resurrected Three easily fit in like they have always been around.

They were their nakama, too; no doubt about that.

"You know what would be great, Batshit?" she heard Grimmjow ask randomly at the table after a game of Hearts (in which Ulquiorra won by a stroke of beginner's luck). "Seeing you with alcohol!"

"I don't think I would be affected by such beverages," the dark-haired male scoffed from beside her, his hands sitting characteristically in his pockets. "Moreover, we don't need such things to..." He looked reluctant to finish. He snuck a glance at Orihime, looking for her to complete his sentence.

She raised an eyebrow at him puzzledly.

"Have fun?" Tia finished for him, smirking calmly. "It's all right to have fun, you know."

"Che, whatever! You _know_ you'd want her drunk," Grimmjow drawled, elbowing him suggestively and gesturing to Orihime.

"I do not need my woman intoxicated to have my way with her," Ulquiorra quipped easily.

Tatsuki, Ichigo, Rukia, and Yasutora all exchanged awkward looks. Uryuu coolly looked away from the group, the hand resting on his glasses masking his expression.

Grimmjow was thoroughly amused by his impudence, while Tia merely blinked―she was the only one not surprised.

Orihime's face grew hot, and urgently, she shot her hands out to cover her boyfriend's mouth. "Urukkun," she whined with embarrassment. "Don't say things like that!" She pouted when his eyes only conveyed indifference toward her.

"You're sneakier than you look..."

. .

Tia's 'present' for Orihime was a night with Ulquiorra in the apartment; the blonde had gone off elsewhere to spend the night.

After everyone helped clean up and eventually leave the couple alone, Orihime locked the door and glanced at Ulquiorra. "I guess it's just us now," she commented. Turning her gray eyes to the kitchen, a sudden idea came to her. "Ah! Are you thirsty? I'll make something." She practically skipped to the kitchen, on an absolute high from the perfect evening.

It didn't take long for him to follow after her. "Hey, I've gotten better at this," she asserted playfully without turning, hearing him come up from behind. "You don't need to―"

Ulquiorra folded his arms across her shoulders and proceeded to nuzzle his nose into her neck, sinking into the comfort of his love.

She was unable to slow her quickening heartbeat or resist the incoming smile on her face. _This is nice._ "I can't make you anything when you're doing that," she teased sweetly. "What's the matter?"

He let out a quiet, contented sigh. "Nothing you should concern yourself with," he murmured. Sensually, he ran his hands down either of her silky arms until his fingers weaved through hers, coaxing her away from the kettle. She felt his soft lips and the delicate tip of his tongue trace over the curve of her ear, from the top arch to her lobe.

She shuddered involuntarily from the moist touch. "W-What's up, Urukkun?" she asked him semi-jokingly. "Did you have fun ton―"

He nipped her earlobe, which resulted in a muted gasp on her end. "Look at me," he murmured in a tender, darkly pleading voice. His breath was warm against her ear. As she trembled against him, he gently bit her goosefleshed neck.

Her breath hitched, her knees buckling, but the lean body pinning her against the side of the counter left her no room to fall.

Sensing as much, he turned her around. His gaze bore into her, melting her with a look of desire as he trapped her waist with possessive hands. Orihime saw his head bend downward, and subsequently felt his lips trail across her neck slowly, savoring the taste and smell of her.

His hips pressed against hers in a suggestive manner.

"Urukkun..." she whimpered, breathless, tilting her head to allow him more head room.

"At last," he grunted huskily, his mouth moving hungrily across the soft patch of skin under her jaw as he spoke. The fingers of one hand began roaming her back―searching for the zipper of her dress. "I can rip this off." After a few seconds, she felt it separate, the bodice loosening around her.

She circled her arms around his neck, and daringly, allowed her fingers to slide seductively up the back of his neck and into his raven locks. To her surprised delight, she felt him shiver against her, the suckle of his lips on her smooth flesh hardening slightly in reaction. She gasped audibly.

She lost track of her hands; they began to wander over his body, thin fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt to feel his abdominal muscles; to caress his hot skin. He gently sucked on her upper lip in response, pulling her in for another passionate kiss. Without warning, he hiked up her skirt with one hand, gathering it at her waist while sliding his warm hand up a soft, luscious thigh. Instinctively, her leg rose, curling against him. The friction between them was hot and exquisite, full of burning need―and she couldn't help but capitalize on it as she arched her hip into him. From what she could feel below the waist area, he liked it... although she did catch the curiosity in his eyes. He was taken aback by her lack of reservation.

Entranced by his exhuding beauty, her lust-induced brain puppeteered her hands slightly lower, to his belt. His bedroom expression was so, so sexy, and made slightly wilder because of her messing his hair up a bit earlier. The look on his face was exclusive only to her, and it secretly gave her such satisfaction that she was the only one he held this gaze for.

Before she could undo it, however, his hands shot out to stop her. She frowned briefly at him, silently wondering what the problem was.

He kissed her cheek reassuringly and leaned in for a whisper. "Do you really want to do this right here?"

Orihime blinked, and turned to look at their surroundings. _Oh._

They were still standing in the kitchen. Not only that, the dress was still open and drafty; if not for the sleeves still adorning her arms, it would be barely clinging onto her.

To his fascination, she smiled in an alluring manner, lifting her palms softly to his chest. His heart was racing underneath her hands, beating desirously because of _her_. This fact gave her an unexplainable, welcoming sense of euphoria. "It's my birthday."

Wordlessly, he smirked and captured her lips once more, pinning her to the nearest wall.

\- { - } -

Orihime's eyes shot open, her alert stare meeting the dark ceiling. Beside her, Ulquiorra snored softly, curled up with his bare back to her.

Careful not to wake him, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

She spotted the bear (affectionately named Murci-kun) watching her from the windowsill. She blew it a kiss as she got up, on the way grabbing Ulquiorra's shirt off the floor to cover herself.

She couldn't help beaming to herself; it still smelled like him.

When she got to the bathroom, she turned on the light and quickly shut the door, so that the brightness did not interrupt her boyfriend's sleep.

As the toilet flushed in the background, she washed her hands and face. After that, she took notice of her reflection and blinked. Curiously, she leaned in, examining her bangs. They were getting long. Perhaps too long for her to keep pinning her Shun Shun Rikka near her ear.

As she continued to stare, something dark seemed to dash across the the reflection behind her, fleeting across her peripheral vision. Jumping out of her skin, she whirled around, frightened gray eyes darting toward every crevice in her bathroom.

The bathroom was quiet except for moderate drip of water from her bathtub.

This was the part where she would _swear_ she saw something―like a ghost; a monster or shadow person, even!―but who would believe her? It was the middle of the night. If she told Ulquiorra, he would just dismiss her ludicrous claims as a dream or simply a figment of her imagination.

Holding in a breath to embolden herself, Orihime turned to the mirror again, partly to pretend it never happened and to continue what she had been doing, and partly to search through the reflection with scrutiny for that mysterious flash again.

Her sharp stare shifted from corner to corner of what appeared in the mirror, then scanned across every centimeter of the middle. Nothing.

Her forehead wrinkled with defeat, almost starting to think that she really was half-asleep... nut then again, here she was in the first place, in the bathroom because she stirred out of slumber wide awake.

Just then, something with sharp, razor-like fur brushed against her leg.

Orihime shivered with fear, unable to move from her spot; unable to look down.

Something was there when it shouldn't be; when it shouldn't _exist._

Her instincts told her to search for a reiatsu, but she sensed nothing of the sort. Was it really just―

An instance of something dark and foreboding appeared out of the corner of her eye. Again, she turned her head, her hair on the back of her neck standing straight up. As she expected, whatever had materialized once again went into hiding. With a wide-eyed stare, she turned to face front, but kept her gaze toward the faucet. She was now too scared to check the mirror.

_I have to move._

_Something's here._

_It's not a dream._

She remembered the fake Ulquiorra; smiling secretively, taunting her with his poisonous green eyes.

With that, she finally had the nerve to sprint out of the bathroom. She didn't know how, or why, but she just _knew_ that it had to do with that Hollow.

Rushing out, and not daring to look behind her, Orihime practically pounced onto Ulquiorra's slumbering form when she came back into the room. She shook his shoulder, hissing his name urgently, her voice full of fright and paranoia.

He groaned softly, letting out a hiss of a sigh as he forced his eyes open. "Orihime?" he asked hoarsely. "Did you have another nightmare?"

She paused briefly, suddenly forgetting that he might not believe anything she said. Ulquiorra may comprehend intangible concepts now, but the paranormal and metaphysical? That may be taking it too far. "... No," she admitted, "but―"

"Then go back to sleep," he ordered, too exhausted to deal with her shenanigans. "I am tired, Onna."

She was well-aware that he was, and all she needed to do was blow gently into his ear or rub up sexily against him to remind him what made him so.

But she was scared, and the feeling that the two of them could be in danger would not leave her system. It was better to be safe than sorry, right?

When she didn't move from his bedside, Ulquiorra finally sat up, quite begrudgingly, at that. Turning to her with an annoyed gaze, he stretched out one arm to her.

Orihime shook her head, rejecting his offer. For some reason, this annoyed him even more. But she felt pressed for time; she'd be unprepared if she sat in his lap like a scared child needing protection from a thunderstorm.

"Well, what is wrong?" he prompted grumpily.

"I-I kept seeing things in the bathroom," she explained awkwardly. It didn't sound very believable, and she felt quite stupid about her attempt, but there was no other way to say it. "We have t-to leave..."

He tsked, irritated that _that_ was the reason she woke him up. "Your shadow, Onna?"

"No..." she sighed. "It's..."

"It's _what_? I'm too exhausted for games."

"I don't know," she said softly. "But swear I saw something out of the corner of my eye and something _else_ touching my leg―"

"An insect?"

"No!" She scowled. "It was way bigger. It... it felt like a porcupine rubbing itself against my leg―but with blades instead of needles. A really big one!"

She knew the words didn't come out the way she wanted. Ulquiorra laid a palm against his face, frustrated. "You are more ridiculous than I thought," he retorted humorlessly. "Are you really telling me this at―" He glanced at her alarm clock. "―three in the morning?"

"Ulquiorra-kun..." His cold dismissal made her feel embarrassed. He seemed so convinced that she was just dreaming that she was beginning to think that her nightmares have gotten her plain paranoid about the world around her.

She wasn't sure what else to say. It was what it was, but how was she going to explain the accompanying fright that she felt in the bathroom? Especially to someone who was too cranky to even be more understanding?

Ulquiorra scooted to the further side of the futon, making room for her. His half-lidded eyes were hinting _heavily_ to her that she should sleep off her trivial worries.

While she understood that Ulquiorra did not appreciate being woken up out of the blue, and was more than likely impatient to get back to sleep, she felt somewhat hurt by his frigid judgment... although, granted, it _was_ Ulquiorra she was talking to.

She must have looked upset at his silent suggestion, for he sighed again, his expression softening for her sake. "Orihime, you have gone through worse," he reassured her gruffly. "You can handle silly things like this―"

His voice tapered oddly at the end. She eyed him curiously, but found that she didn't need to look into his emerald stare, which was no longer on her, to figure out what happened.

For sure, this was no figment of her imagination.

She turned around cautiously, the sight of the closed bathroom door confirming her guess.

The light had turned on.

"Orihime," He muttered warily from behind her. "Why did the―"

"I don't know," she answered quietly, anxiously staring through the opening under the door. No silhouette of someone's feet; it sort of baffled her. "But I think this was what I was talking about..."

The couple jumped as slowly, the door opened a few centimeters, the careful speed of it causing it to creak. As more light spilled into the room, Orihime (as well as Ulquiorra, she was sure) felt a strange reiatsu seep into her senses. It was a signature that she should know, as there was an inkling of familiarity about it, but she couldn't put it to a face...

"Who is this?" Ulquiorra asked her, his tone hardening with suspicion.

She shook her head, indicating that she didn't know that, either. She scrambled to her feet in a guarding stance. "Urukkun, stay behind me," she instructed hurriedly, properly buttoning the shirt she was wearing.

The energy was dense; impossible to ignore. It was so heavy that it was almost as if it was sucking them into the bathroom like a black hole.

Having enough of the slow, the door swung the rest of the way wide open and slammed into the wall with incredible force. Orihime winced at its loudness.

The two of them could see mysterious pinpoints of light similar to sand forming a human arm, and then a shoulder... and gradually, the rest of a humanoid body.

As the formation completed, Orihime's spirit faltered. Her eyes widened until she felt like they could pop out of their sockets, and her body shook with a combination of fear and heartbreak. She found herself backing up, colliding into his hard body. Her arms spreaded out on either side to protect Ulquiorra, but it seemed that he was the protective one, steadying her shaking body with his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"It's..." her boyfriend murmured in a growl, recognizing the appearance from her pictures, her personal _shrine._

She knew this face so well.

"Onii...san..." she breathed. The redhead felt tears form at the corner of her shocked gray eyes. She pressed harder against Ulquiorra behind her, both out of vigilance and her own horror.

The Hollow's grin was broader than than ever, spooky and evil against the shadows formed from the bathroom light.

"And that _fade_ ," the brown-haired figure of Orihime's deceased older brother, Sora, declared breezily, "is how you trick a little human into thinking she can kill a Vasto Lorde."

 


	14. Loneliness Be Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She doesn't want them to tell her how strong she is, or how strong she had been--she already demonstrated it, all on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Playlist:**_ "Resistance" by High and Mighty Color; "Map of the Problematique" by Muse

_\- { strength of her own } -_

"Ah," the Hollow snickered, his grin evil—drastic in contrast to the gentle features of the face he adorned. "An even stronger reaction to my appearance. Delightful—and all I did was copy these images you have of him."

"Onna," Ulquiorra hissed from behind Orihime. "You must act now." He put a firm hand against her back in an attempt to urge her forward, but she was rendered still, in utter astonishment of seeing her dear big brother standing in front of them.

" _Onna,_ " he pressed more urgently.

The Hollow petted his chin-length brown hair, the lips of the familiar face set in a nasty snarl. The once warm eyes were dark, puppeteered by a sinister soul. The enemy seemed to relish the pain in her eyes; in her blanched, shocked face. "You may have the powers of a god, but you are still human," he taunted her, his voice like toxic honey. "Enough for this to affect you."

She told herself she wouldn't fall for stupid tricks; that she was mentally stronger than this... but it was easier said than done.

" _Wake_ _up,_ _Orihime_!"

Orihime gasped at the yell in her ear, and would have leaped about ten feet in the air if Ulquiorra hadn't been gripping her so desperately. And yet, her mind refused to function, to separate the face in front of her from the true memory of the brother she knew. "Oniisan..." she whispered.

"It is not him," Ulquiorra persisted, his tone hard and sharp. He was getting frustrated with her. "Get that through your head!"

"Orihime," the enemy teased darkly in a sing-song voice. "Let's play!"

A tear made its way down her cheek. "Stop it..." she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut. "... Stop it..."

"Onna!" Ulquiorra called to her in a scolding, hurried tone. He nudged her firmly. "You are the only one who can fight!"

His words finally getting through, she opened her gray orbs again. _I'm_ _the_ _only_ _one_ _—_

The Hollow grinned snidely and stepped forward. Her apartment wasn't very big, so every footfall brought the man exponentially closer to the couple.

She put a hand on top of Ulquiorra's. "I'm okay," she murmured.

He dropped his grip at her words, trusting her to do the rest.

"You really are such a pretty girl," the Hollow commented, his eyes tracing over every curve of her body. "I can see why this man would bed you."

Orihime's form stiffened with disgust. Although it wasn't really Sora, the invasive stare and the comment still felt wrong on many levels.

Ulquiorra grew tense as well. "I will not allow you to simplify _my_ _woman_ to a piece of meat," he growled, his tone deadly. His stare narrowed. "That's right... you were the trash who pretended to be me; who dared to _touch_ her when you had _no_ _right._ "

The fake Sora blinked at the outburst, unthreatened. "You're all riled up because I merely kissed her and held her hand." He smiled in a perverse manner. "Cute." With feigned disappointment, he tsked. "But it's really too bad I didn't get to feel _inside_ of her for myself—"

That was all it took to spark an uncontrollable anger in Ulquiorra. Swiftly sidestepping from behind Orihime, he formed a fist with his right hand and used his left to possessively pull her behind him.

"Wait—" she started, her blood running cold.

Without a second thought, he swung.

The fake Sora reached up and easily caught the flying punch, his hand gripped tightly around Ulquiorra's, whose eyes burned with an unrelenting, harsh gaze as he tried to push through. However, holding him back was no effort for the enemy.

"Urukkun!" she cried in fear. A fairy-shaped flare burst out of her pin, prepared to launch.

"Too slow," the Hollow said, almost simultaneously. With a final squeeze, the couple watched in motionless, blanching horror as within seconds, the entirety of Ulquiorra's arm suddenly exploded, every fiber of it vaporizing into nothing. All that remained was a bloody stump, smoke rising out as if it had been on fire.

Ulquiorra cried out, in both surprise and excruciating pain, the sound loud enough to bounce off the walls of her apartment. It wasn't something Orihime has ever heard before, and never wanted to hear again. She felt her heart shatter.

"ULQUIORRA-KUN!"

"What a stupid thing to do," the Hollow commented, watching with morbid, concentrated joy as Ulquiorra's face lowered, contorted. "What can a Plus in a gigai do to me?"

Ulquiorra started to teeter a bit sideways when he tried to step back. Orihime quickly caught his unbalanced frame, protectively holding him against her. She carefully dropped down to her knees, lying Ulquiorra on his side against her lap, the armless side up.

He dug his face into her, waves of scorching pain continuously crashing through him. "Orihime," he whispered, his call for her slurred and weak.

Her heart lurched. Without wasting time, she formed a yellow capsule over the injury. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, stroking his hair.

When her teardrops fell against his head, a pained green eye slowly turned to her. _Do_ _not_ _blame_ _yourself_ , it was saying with reprimand, holding an edge of guilt in them, like he was faulting himself for acting so brash.

She then felt knuckles brush against her bare knee. Startled, she looked down. Ulquiorra's uninjured hand, which had previously been lying motionless on the ground, was stroking her with confidence. "Be strong," her boyfriend murmured in a strained voice.

After silently thanking him with a loving glance, Orihime sucked in a deep breath and shot the unmoving Hollow a defiant glare. "What do you want?" she questioned bravely.

He smirked, entertained by her emerging confidence.

"You burst into the privacy of my home, injured the man I love, and desecrated the image of my brother," she went on, her voice rising. The volume she carried surprised even her. Her tears of anger were mixed with her tears for Ulquiorra's pain. "So, _what_ _do_ _you_ _want?_ "

"I want to consume you," the Hollow said easily. "As you know, I covet your power."

Without a reply to his, she let Tsubaki fly out and charge, but the fairy was quickly deflected as a tentacle ( _No_ _—_ _tail,_ she corrected herself when she noticed that it had come out from the Hollows backside) flew out at her.

Orihime closed her eyes in concentration; her mind cleared. It took only seconds for the tail to reach her, but it was still enough time for her to put up a shield in front of her and Ulquiorra. Unlike Ulquiorra and Ichigo's fight back in the Winter War, it didn't shatter. In fact, the appendage bounced violently against it and flew backward at the same trajectory. Unfortunately, he quickly gained control of the tail and swung it away. It collided into the wall, creating a huge dent and heavy cracks.

"Oh? You have a big heart," the Hollow mumbled, squinting at her with thought. "Guess I won't go easy on you. Now I know that you are worth taking."

"You won't have me!"

"Well, in exchange, I can tell you every detail of your war on Hueco Mundo first." He motioned toward some random direction beyond him. "Who else will tell you that, in order for your lover here to appear in Soul Society in a manner that was _convenient_ _to_ _you_ , they would had to have been revived along with your friends—"

"It wasn't out of convenience!" Orihime shouted, offended. "Why would I do something so selfish? How does this make things even?"

But still, Orihime suddenly remembered first seeing Ulquiorra, the strange thread of unmistakable Hollow surrounding him when she reunited with him in Soul Society. "And how...?"

Newly healed, Ulquiorra managed to pull himself to his feet and glare at the Hollow. "Concentrate on what you must do, Orihime," he reminded her, as she stood up, as well. "He is clearly trying to weaken you with his words. The 'how' no longer matters."

"Oh, come now, Espada..." the fake Sora muttered with a wide grin.

"I am not Espada," Ulquiorra declared confidently. "I am practically as human as this woman next to me." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "The one you dare to disrespect."

Orihime's eyes widened.

 _Ulquiorra-kun... as_ _human_ _as_ _me?_

So he has accepted his humanity and his heart, both of which _she_ has given him. Despite the urgency of the situation, she couldn't stop her heart from swelling with pride.

The Hollow's eyes changed to full black. His smile widened literally from ear-to-ear, stretching Sora's face to a disturbing degree. "Little girl, you really are playing with the powers of a god."

Orihime scowled. She wasn't a god. She will _never_ again be a god.

She raised her right hand, her open palm facing the Hollow.

Nothing happened.

She bit her lip, for some reason, unable to move. _Why_ _can't_ _I_ _do_ _it?_ _This_ _isn't_ _Onii_ _—_

"Onna," Ulquiorra spoke up suddenly. He gently clamped a hand on her outstretched arm, fingers wrapping around her delicate wrist, and then reached his other hand around to cover her eyes. Her back collided softly into his chest.

For a startled second, she resisted, but his grip was firm. "Ulquiorra-kun—"

"Let me be your eyes," he whispered.

Right... she had tried it before, alone, and failed. But now...

"I will inform you of the correct spells," he told her, his tone business-like. "And maneuver you accordingly if he decides to move—"

Just as the words left his lips, the arm that had been against her own flew downward to wrap around her waist, forcing them both to dodge and whirl around.

"Attack straight ahead," Ulquiorra told her. "Now."

"Tsubaki-kun!"

He tsked. "Miss," he reported, and angled them right at around forty-five degrees. "He teleported."

"Do you think this is sufficient?" she heard the Hollow ask. "Don't underestimate me."

Something heavy whipped past their heads with a dense whoosh; Ulquiorra pulled them left to avoid it. "Tail," he whispered curtly. "He has a second one."

"Two tails..." she whispered with a concerned brow.

Orihime was impressed by Ulquiorra. Given no powers due to the rules set by Soul Society, he would have to be rendered useless. It was fascinating to feel him move so swiftly, alert of a fighter as always. He must have trained a lot while she was gone.

"This space is too small," her boyfriend muttered gruffly, undoing her makeshift 'blindfold.' "We must leave."

Before she could question him, Ulquiorra had already grabbed her by the wrist, hastily dragging her as they ran to the door.

"B-But my clothes!" she cried.

"There's no time."

To her fright, two tails, both of similar size and coloring, flew right past them—Ulquiorra was barely able to pull both he and she to the ground.

"Are you trying to escape?" drawled a devilish voice from behind.

The tails proceeded to through her door, causing it to splinter and break off. Orihime screamed, and was granted no time to recover as Ulquiorra stood the two of them up and dragged her through the opening left by the enemy, sneaking past just as the fake Sora pulled them back.

She nearly stumbled down the stairs as Ulquiorra continued to lead her. They didn't even have time to get properly dressed, nor to even put on shoes. She was only clad in Ulquiorra's green button-down dress shirt and her underwear, while he had on nothing but his boxers and the pants he wore that day. Even in the emergency situation, she felt quite exposed, although there was nobody out at this time of night.

"Where is the closest open area?" he asked quietly when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"A park," she replied promptly.

He gripped her hand, not wanting to dawdle. "Let's go, then."

. .

The park wasn't a very far run. Under the dim moonlight, Ulquiorra could make out a diamond shaped gaming field, empty and desolate in the dead of night.

They were sure that Ichigo and Rukia would be able to sense the danger by now, so if they came out to help, Ulquiorra wouldn't be surprised.

However, neither he nor Orihime were able to sense their enemy anymore. During their sprint, the Hollow's tails' attempts at whipping them have stopped.

"He disappeared," she murmured with uncertainty, echoing his thoughts. "I thought he'd chase us."

"Not with the type of powers he has," Ulquiorra rationalized. "He is more likely to pick an opportune time to reappear just as he did at your home. He may be watching us now."

The two felt silent, both catching their breaths.

He looked over at Orihime. She looked more focused than he had ever seen her. She was prepared to _end_ this for sure. He never got to find out what exactly happened at that abandoned building, but he knew that she was thinking of that, too.

She suddenly glanced one way, her eyes rounded. "Uru—" she started.

One disconnected arm of the rematerialized fake Sora suddenly shot out from thin air, as if from behind an invisible curtain. And at awestriking speed, it grabbed Orihime by the neck.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened with shock. _Orihime!_

With ease, the newly materializing Hollow lifted her off the ground and immediately threw her back into it, face down in a heap a few feet away.

"Orihime!" Ulquiorra shouted, running to her side. Too focused on her well-being, he paid no heed to the laidback Hollow, who simply watched them in amused silence.

She groaned when he kneeled beside her. He helped her turn over, and pulled her against him, gingerly cradling her body in his arms.

"It burns, Urukkun," she whispered, her voice strained. She sucked in a hiss, curling into herself, even his gentle, protective touch causing her pain.

"Burns...?" he echoed with worry, laying a finger very lightly against her cheek. She winced and turned away from it.

There was nothing on her body indicating as such. She looked okay—only a little bruised and dirtied from the strangely mild crash. If anything, she should be complaining about broken bones.

And then the image of his arm disappearing into the air suddenly fleeted across his mind with dread.

He hitched in a breath. Slowly, he lowered his eyes to take a more careful look, this time, at her entire body.

Her legs, and seconds later, her hair, were beginning to fade into the air, wisping away like ashes—just as he had done in Hueco Mundo.

"Orihime..." he uttered in a choked whisper, gaping in horror. Without consideration for her invisible burns, his free had jutted out to grip her wrist, to cling with vain.

She briefly squeezed her eyes shut at his gesture. She gasped with pain, but as she opened them again, she realized what was happening; she saw that her hand was beginning to fade away, too.

A tear slid down Orihime's cheek. Her eyes were heartbreakingly terrified, and her jaw was tense with pain. "Ulquiorra-kun," she weeped. Even her voice sounded like it was fading into the air.

And then, he no longer felt her wrist in his grasp. He was gripping _nothing_.

His throat clinched sorely. It was only seconds ago he had felt her pulse in his hand.

 _Not_ _her._

Something inside of him broke.

 _Please._ _Not_ _her._

He had never felt so hopeless, so weighed down by the pain in his chest, only able to watch as she disappeared in his arms; only able to stare grievously into last instance of her being—her beautiful glassy eyes—as she vanished completely into nothing.

Just like that.

Her hairpins fell pathetically to the grass in front of him, the only remnants of her that remained. With a numb hand, he grabbed them.

_Orihime?_

"The one who destroyed; the one who resurrected," spoke up the Hollow patiently, obviously unthreatened. "Tragic."

She had _just_ been in his hands. It was only a moment ago that he could hear her heartbeat. He could still hear his name on her lips, the wind carrying what was now only a figment of his imagination.

No—these eyes of his had to be deceiving him, they had to be lying; it had to be a trick. Everything had to be—just _had_ _to_ _be..._

"Orihime..." he muttered, ignoring the enemy.

There was nothing.

The Hollow continued to observe him with both amusement and pity.

"Orihime!" Ulquiorra yelled into the night. He had never used his voice so strenuously before. It scratched his throat and made him go hoarse—but he needed to know that what he thought happened _hadn't_ _happened_ _at_ _all_.

He struggled to his feet, her name still leaping from his lips. "ORIHIME! _ONNA_!"

"Aww, you look distraught," the Hollow finally muttered, eyeing Ulquiorra. He looked sickeningly satisfied. "I'm sure you already miss her, don't you? You two were so _in_ _love_ , weren't you? Would you like to see her again?"

Ulquiorra immediately understood what the Hollow was getting at. "Don't you _dare,_ " he growled dangerously as he turned to glare at him, squeezing his clammy hands into fists so tight they went numb.

The Hollow smirked. Suddenly, the tail vanished, and his shape fluidly changed like ripples of water: orange-red hair, large gray eyes, the hourglass figure.

Ulquiorra's jaw clenched.

"Now why would I do that?" he asked playfully.

The growing emptiness in his chest was so painful that it was all he could feel, and the only thing his mind was capable of thinking was the image of her fading away, playing over and over. It left his body cold.

"Where is she?" Ulquiorra asked with angry desperation. " _What_ _did_ _you_ _do_ _to_ _her!_ "

The faint smile grew into a wide, demonic one.

 _"_ _WHERE'S_ _MY_ _WOMAN!_ _"_ he snarled.

With feigned cuteness, the Hollow tilted his head to the side. It was a cruel imitation of the woman he loved, and this enemy knew it all too well. "Eh...? I'm right here, Urukkun."

Ulquiorra's chest seared with a foreign, unbearable pain. He raised a hand to clutch his chest, suddenly finding himself struggling to breathe. Nonetheless, he continued to stand his ground. "Do not taunt me, Trash," he simmered.

"I thought it was already obvious. You just don't want to face it."

Ulquiorra's tormented green eyes stared hard the Hollow, not understanding—or not _wanting_ to understand.

"How does it feel, experiencing the _loss_ of a loved one for the first time? This _despair_?"

He gritted his teeth. "You—"

"Do you want to join her?" the Hollow continued, and then perked up. "Ah! She was human, correct? Then you _may_ see her in Soul Society, but you might have to search through all that vast world for one pretty girl." The Hollow wagged a playful index finger at him. "And you can't go back to Soul Society, ne, Urukkun?"

"A mere exile will not hinder me. Nor will you."

"Do you even dare to lift a hand to this face?"

Ulquiorra swallowed with hidden anxiety, but he needed to keep a strong front. "If necessary."

As he had boasted back in Orihime's apartment—he was almost as human as she was. But he had learned the hard way how defenseless he really was. But for her, he must do something... he just didn't know what.

"To go from my level in Hueco Mundo to something so pitiful," the Hollow muttered thinly, smiling. "It makes me wonder if I should have mercy on you."

"..."

Something suddenly swiped him sideways and sent him into the air. He had been so engrossed in memories of Orihime that he didn't pay attention to what the enemy was doing.

 _I_ _cannot_ _get_ _distracted_ _like_ _this_ _—_

His mid-air musings were interrupted when he crashed a few yards away, his eyes buried in grass and his mouth tasting cold dirt.

He coughed, spitting out earth. Pain ached throughout his entire body. It was nothing compared to the brutality of his injuries back when he protected Orihime with that Adjuchas Hollow. Nonetheless, he felt a pain in his now broken rib, as well as blood from his lip and nose.

He pushed himself up, ignoring the sear of his wounds.

But a hand suddenly reached into Ulquiorra's hair, gripping tightly, tearing painfully at his dark locks to keep him in place. A sharp, ugly reiatsu bore down on his neck, pinning him.

With all his strength, Ulquiorra swung his elbow backward, in hopes of at least getting a hit on the Hollow, but something heavy and full of sharp, razor-like fur whipped at him, deflecting his attempt.

Ulquiorra hissed in pain as his arm recoiled, blood now pouring from the heavy gashes on his arm.

Almost immediately, the Hollow shoved his head back into his grass. Pain shot up his head. A groan helplessly spilled out of his mouth. And no matter how much he tried to push himself off the ground, the enemy only pushed back harder, not only with his monstrous strength, but with his equally oppressive reiatsu.

"In my true form, I have 100 tails, Espada," the Hollow commented. "I'm already wasting my energy by revealing two to deadweight like you."

Ulquiorra violently pulled his shoulder back in an attempt to ward the Hollow off, but he felt two points aim squarely at his back with threat.

"How does it feel?" came the fake Orihime's voice, thin and hateful, "to have this face you love so much hurt you like this? To hear the disgust in this voice?"

Ulquiorra knew that _his_ Orihime would never take such an attitude toward him, but the imagery of these words tore at him, digging up the inner doubt and insecurity that was buried deep. But it wasn't this feeling that sent a shiver up his spine.

The ominous warmth that had taken over his arm earlier tonight created a fear like nothing else. It was hard not remembering the human pain that crippled him to a lying, useless mass. He couldn't fathom what this same ability would do against his head, even his entire body.

His ear against the ground, Ulquiorra suddenly heard the sprint of footsteps coming toward him. He opened his eyes wide, green orbs focusing on two pairs of sandaled feet rushing forward, and then leaping over him into the air.

The points against his back moved.

The addition of two heavy reiatsu, one heavy with threat, and the other icy with dead calm, made Ulquiorra's heart beat with some hope.

 _Kurosaki_ _Ichigo_ _and_ _Kuchiki_ _Rukia._

There was a _whoosh_ of the Hollow's tail and twin _clangs_ from the clash of weapons and razored tails, but no successful hit—the shinigami ended up skidding to a stop as they landed a few feet away.

"You make it damn easy for us to see that you aren't really Inoue!" came the sharp growl of Ichigo's voice. "So what did you _do_ with our _nakama_!"

"And let Ulquiorra go!" Rukia yelled. "He's no threat to you! Fight us instead!"

Avoiding their questions and demands, the Hollow dug Ulquiorra's face further into the dirt, hindering his breaths, hiding his sight... and lowering him to the nothing he saw him as. As if it wasn't enough, the heavy pressure of the Hollow's reiatsu gripped him, trapping him.

Ulquiorra had no weapon—in this gigai, a sword and his bit of speed were all he had left.

And he couldn't stop Orihime from disappearing.

"If you move any more, this Espada will die in my hand."

"What the _fuck_ are you saying!"

"I'm saying that I can kill him right here, right now. In an instant." The hand in his hair squeezed, as if intending to rip the scalp off his head. "Just like your precious girl."

_Pang._

Ulquiorra's hand desperately squeezed the pins he refused to part with.

_Orihime._

"You... killed her?" Ichigo's voice was quiet, full of broken shock.

Killed. The word finally processed in Ulquiorra's mind. It was a painful reality he couldn't escape from. It was a truth he couldn't lie to himself with. Orihime had been _killed_. The heart he held so dear had _faded_ _into_ _oblivion_.

The lump in his throat was difficult to swallow. It was impossible to breathe. This sensation was beyond the pain of his injuries.

_Orihime._

"You're lying!" Rukia shouted frantically. "There's no way!"

There was no longer anything he could grasp onto to keep her with him. These pins in his deathgrip were now empty.

Every memory he had of his beloved woman and every instance of her face that he could envision, smiling with eyes full of love, flooded his mind in a rush. The one who gave him a heart was all he ever wanted to see again—in any lifetime. In _every_ lifetime.

But she wasn't here, and she wasn't coming back.

"—Didn't you want her power?" Ulquiorra heard the shorter shinigami go on. There was disbelief in her voice. "Why would you do that if you wanted something from her?"

"Something's off," Ichigo muttered. Ulquiorra heard a thin rip of a Hollow mask forming, the orange-haired human accessing the Hollow side of his powers. "Now _fight_ _us_ , you asshole! And leave Ulquiorra out of thi—"

"I told you not to move."

The dread of imminent demise jolted Ulquiorra. He knew what was coming next.

_Is this what my human life has been reduced to?_

Perhaps there was no way around it. A Hollow at this level could not be beaten by a distilled version of Ulquiorra. The shinigami, maybe, but if they stayed as they were, this fight would only end in a stalemate.

"No!" screamed Ichigo. "That guy has nothing to do with you—"

Ulquiorra shut his eyes. There was no point in Kurosaki Ichigo to continue trying to reason with such a brash, volatile character; and no point in protecting a former enemy. This was his ending, just as Orihime had faced hers. And his biggest regret...

 _Orihime..._ _I_ _wish_ _I_ _could_ _have_ _protected_ _you_ _better._

"Goodbye, Esp—"

_**THCKKK.**_

The grip on him—both physically and reiatsu-wise—suddenly released.

Stark green eyes popped back open and lifted slightly from the grass. A soft sound filled the uncertain silence—something tumbling sorrowfully to the ground somewhere near him.

Ulquiorra couldn't tell what had happened. But from the throat-grating screech directly behind him, he had an idea.

His hand suddenly growing warm, he opened his palm... just in time to catch a pinpoint of reddish light dive back within the accessories.

The Shun Shun Rikka was active.

"Orihime...?" he questioned in hushed bewilderment.

As if to answer him, a ghost of a distinct aura filled his system, awakening him with renewed alertness. He could feel her again, her adoring gaze boring into his back. And he watched with fascination as the warmth of her shield enveloped him, quickly healing his injuries.

Ulquiorra's heart began pounding with hope; with his needful ache to see her. He took in a deep breath, and finally found the energy to stand and turn on his heel.

He discovered that the enemy had stepped back several steps, hunched over slightly because of the injury; a stump at his shoulder that could have mirrored Ulquiorra's own earlier. Nearby, Ulquiorra also spotted a bloodless arm on the ground begin to corrode, disappearing little by little like some sort of acidic reaction. It was different from the way Orihime disappeared, but similar to the way Ulquiorra's own arm had. In any case, it was permanent.

And then... there was _her_ , just as he had seen her last, but even more beautiful now because she was real.

Orihime's eyes never wavered from the Hollow as she stepped closer. They burned with fearlessness.

The Hollow craned his neck to follow everyone else's gaze. The gray eyes widened with unadulterated surprise. "You...!"

Her voice rang like he had never heard it before: clear and deadly. "Don't touch Ulquiorra-kun or any of my friends!"

The Hollow gritted his teeth... but slowly, it widened to a grin full of murderous intent—lips pulled so far back that it appeared as though it sliced through his head.

A tail manifested, whipping past his eyes and flying at Orihime.

Ulquiorra's green orbs widened. _Why_ _isn't_ _she_ _moving?_

Before he could cry out to her, he watched as her protective shield formed in a triangle in the tail's path. The appendage hit—but upon impact, disintegrated.

... That was new. It was like the _Santen Kesshun_ and the _Fushokuten Shishun_ combined...

The fake Orihime let out a screech of pain, stumbling back a step to recover.

"I-Inoue?" Ichigo called out. Neither he nor Rukia knew what to do.

She didn't seem to hear him, too focused to pay attention to anything else.

"I've stalled too long," Orihime said cryptically. She stepped forward bravely, and then added, "I need to move on now."

She allowed a great dome to form over the entire park. If not for the threatening buzz of death surrounding them, as well as the sparks of electric ribbons fortifying the shield, he would've found the the yellow filter against the world around them beautiful.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Rukia, with wide, fearful eyes, quickly grab onto Ichigo's sleeve. The taller shinigami seemed just as anxious, but Ulquiorra assumed that his silence meant that he was trying to look strong in front of the girl with him.

Ulquiorra turned his emerald stare back to Orihime. What was she doing?

It was possible that she could kill not just the Hollow, but _all_ of them. Nonetheless, something about her felt _controlled_. Her reiatsu felt alive. It was stronger than ever, hot with bridled anger. Unlike Ulquiorra's own experiences with facing Ichigo, Orihime's energy wasn't heavy at all. He likened more to ribbons of light meant to ensnare rather than something meant to crush.

"You must think I'm simple-minded," the Hollow commented, "to think I will just stand here and let you kill me. And how about your loved ones?" He stepped forward.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Orihime warned softly.

"What? _Move_ , human?"

Her brows furrowed, but she didn't say anything else.

"Nothing to say?" He smirked nastily. "Challenge accepted."

Orihime glanced at Ulquiorra, and then at her friends, her gray gaze rather pointed.

 _Don't_ _move,_ something within told him, his intuition strong. Only moving his green irises, he glanced at the shinigami through his peripheral. They also seemed to get the hint, both tensely motionless.

Without heeding her warning, The Hollow shot his last tail forth. But no matter how blindingly fast it was, it was no match for Orihime, the tip just short of touching her before it vaporized.

"You just don't want to lift a finger and own up to your kills," the Hollow snarled, his anger growing. "Don't play innocent, Girl. You are a killer. And even worse, you _murdered_ your _friends_ for your own selfish plans!"

She gritted her teeth, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "That's not true!"

Like clay, the Hollow's head molded... into the form of a fox head-shaped skull. He lowered his arms to the ground like front animal legs, with fur, sharp and gold, spreading over the entirety of his body. From the base of his back, dozens upon dozens of tails emerged, a mixture of those that looked like the ones that had attacked them on this night, and others made of what looked like energy. Either way, Ulquiorra assumed that there were 98 in number, not including, of course, the two already gone.

The Hollow had finally released into its true form.

Shocked, Orihime backed up a step. She stared at the tails with wide eyes, taking them in carefully, like she was counting every single one.

Moreover, they were all aimed at her.

With abysmal black eyes, he silently dared her to fight now, even though sands of him floated above and wisped into nothing, her dome ever so slowly eating him away.

After a moment, Orihime closed her eyes briefly, bracing herself with resolve, bracing herself for her upcoming fight.

"Everyone," she murmured, most likely to the ones able to fight: Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia. "You can move now."

The last thing Ulquiorra remembered before passing out from a blinding yellow light, was the two shinigami—suddenly with the power to overcome the power of the dome—sprinting past him to join their comrade.

. .

When he came to, he saw that the night returned to its normal post-midnight blue and a cool, breezy silence, drying the salty heat that dampened Ulquiorra's skin as he carefully sat up.

"Ulquiorra-kun?"

 _Her_ _voice,_ _calling_ _my_ _name;_ _ringing_ _in_ _this_ _aching_ _heart._

Hearing her rushing footsteps rustling the grass, the green-eyed man turned his head. As soon as he locked on to those beautiful gray eyes, Ulquiorra opened his arms and allowed her to drop to her knees and collapse against him.

He held her as if she was the fabric of life itself, the air he breathed, the heart that kept him alive. He sank his face into her neck, simply taking in the feel and smell of her.

Her heartbeat pulsed hard against his own.

 _She_ _still_ _lives._

He closed his eyes, melding into her warmth.

 _My_ _woman_ _still_ _lives._

There was truly nothing else he would rather have in his grasp right now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Ulquiorra-kun."

"That fear..." Ulquiorra squeezed her against him even tighter, scared that she might fade again if he let go. "... It was painful."

Despite the simple words, she seemed to sense how far the emotion really reached for him, how much had shaken him to his core. A sob shook her body. "I'm so sorry..."

"No," he replied. "That thing was the one who tried to take you."

Nearby, the battleworn Ichigo and Rukia looked on in relief, despite how tired they seemed. The shorter of the two, though, also seemed to be in wonder. "Orihime," she broke in. "... How in the world did you come back, anyway?"

Orihime broke away from Ulquiorra to look at her. She blushed a little. "It wasn't... well, it wasn't as great as anything you guys have done..." she replied, the polite side of her buffering the praise, although it was something she had wanted from them in the first place.

"The hell? You returned from the dead!" Ichigo exclaimed.

She shook her head. "I didn't die, Kurosaki-kun. I guess the Hollow wanted you to think that to impair your judgment."

She glanced at Ulquiorra. "Urukkun, do you remember when that cube made you go to that void?"

He arched a brow. "Why?"

"Well, I think the Hollow sent me there," she explained. "Or well, _something_ like that. The Hollow intended to trap me, I guess, so that he could come back and consume me after he was done with all of you. He probably thought I couldn't get out."

"For someone who sought power from you to underestimate you like that, it's strange," Rukia remarked slowly.

"I guess his power relied more on being a sneaky bastard," Ichigo added. "No wonder he had an affinity for Ichimaru Gin at first."

"Either way," Orihime said, her eyes skimming the grass, "he's dead. For real, this time."

The group fell silent after that. Ulquiorra and Orihime pulled themselves to their feet, possibly ready to call it a night, but it seemed that Rukia had something else to say.

"Orihime? We want to say this... on behalf of Ishida and Chad as well, who both aren't here..." She snuck a glance at Ichigo, whose eyes were staring down his sandaled feet.

Facing Orihime again, she sighed. "We're sorry," she continued, looking sincere as she uttered the apology. She bowed deeply; with respect. "We didn't mean to create such a mess for you mentally. We wanted—"

"You didn't have to be so overbearing," Orihime told them. When the two shinigami darted their gazes to her, she bowed her head, a little self-conscious. But she persevered.

"I'm not a child. And I'm not helpless."

Rukia lowered her gaze, humbled. "No... you're not," she agreed.

"But you're forgiven, Kuchiki-san. I understand that you only did it because you cared."

Ulquiorra shifted his eyes to Ichigo, who hadn't said anything. He wasn't even looking this young woman who once saw him as her love and hero. Even with a shattered perfect image, the shinigami should have at least had the decency to apologize on his own—but he didn't. For someone who seemed torn and vengeful by her 'death,' he showed little resignation of his faults to her face.

Ulquiorra recalled a time where Ichigo had claimed to have used her feelings to separate him and her. It was a rude move and the shinigami knew it, but he didn't even own up to that.

What a shame.

Ulquiorra knew that Orihime was aware that Ichigo was an overall a good person, but not perfect, and they would have to deal with him slowly and eventually maturing enough to express his humility. But until then—even though they were allies and barely _friends_ —Ulquiorra would lose respect for him.

Orihime turned a gray eye to Ichigo, as if expecting something from him, but instead of bowing his head and outright apologizing like Rukia had, he smiled awkwardly. "Guess I won't be protecting you as much, huh?"

"Ichigo," Rukia quietly reprimanded, nudging him with her elbow.

The orangeheaded teen took a deep breath, his eyes guarded, and offered Orihime a ninety-degree bow.

She took a step backward, somehow not expecting him to lower himself so much for her. "Uh, Kurosaki-kun—"

"You deserve better treatment than we've given you—than _I've_ given you," he mumbled. "... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Kurosaki-kun," she said with a smile. "It's hard to stay mad at you and Kuchiki-san and the others. I mean, I've always had a soft spot for yo—eh, what's wrong?"

Ichigo suddenly gritted his teeth with uneasiness, looking past her shoulder and pointing at Ulquiorra with a wary look. "Oi, I don't think you should ramble on with stuff like that..."

Indeed, Ulquiorra felt something burn possessively inside of and around him, and he wanted to make sure Kurosaki Ichigo was _very_ aware of that.

"Urukkun," she giggled, laying a hand against his arm. "I-I love you! You know that!"

Orihime wasn't going to get away herself. He shot a harsh look toward her. "Prove it."

She blushed and moved her gray orbs to the side, her voice lowering to a shy murmur. "I think... I've shown that enough..."

It was then Ichigo _finally_ noticed what the couple was _not_ wearing, Orihime in particular. Without meaning to, he gave her a once over, his face colored out of embarrassment.

Ulquiorra leveled another angered stare at him.

Ichigo coughed awkwardly and flickered his eyes back to Rukia, his eyes boring into an area past her shoulder. "... I guess we better get going, guys."

Rukia blinked, confused as to why he was looking at her. "Did you mean to say that to them?" she questioned blankly.

"Just come on!" He grabbed her by the sleeve and dragged her away.

"Hey, you're going to make my uniform slip, you idiot!" she cried as she stumbled after him.

Ulquiorra watched them disappear into the night, and then turned back to Orihime. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. He expected her to flush with embarrassment at Ichigo's realization.

But instead, she began to cry.

"... Onna..." he chided softly, gently forcing her by the chin to face him. She flinched and turned away, ashamed.

These weren't tears of relief or happiness. Her expression showed feelings of dishonor _._ In the end, despite the defeat, she wasn't proud of the power she used. But maybe she never had been; it represented something she was not and something she never wanted to be—a destructive god.

"I'm never using that again," she whispered, her jaw clenched to keep it from quivering as she spoke. "It always sends me these scary shivers I don't want to understand."

"Then don't use it anymore. What are you fretting over?"

"But Ulquiorra-kun, after all this time of wanting to prove—"

"You simply did what you had to do, Orihime." Seeing that she was not yet convinced, he added, "Moreover, it was _Tsubaki_ who saved my life. I know you have that Hougyoku to amplify the things you do, but if you are able to use it to your advantage, that is impressive as well."

She lifted her head and looked up at him with awe.

"Don't think that I don't understand what you are going through," he continued. "I _know_ you, Onna. Even with your hatred for the _Fushokuten_ _Shishun_ , you still have strength befitting of a warrior without it. If the others do not already see that, then they are blind."

She bowed her head, one last tear slipping down her cheek as she closed her eyes. She was contemplating, taking his words in earnest... until she reached some sort of final epiphany.

She allowed a real smile to stretch across her face, one that brightened the night. It was gorgeous; Ulquiorra did not dare tear away from her.

"Then," she finally spoke up, putting her hand to her chest. Her expression was full of resolve. "I will own _this_ strength and believe that I stand on equal footing with Kurosaki-kun."

Her heart was her strength. Her heart must have been what got her out of the Vasto Lorde's trap, and her heart was what will keep her fighting to her full potential.

A proud smile pulled at Ulquiorra's lips.

\- { - } -

"Well, I assume you got into contact with your benefactor about a new apartment," Kisuke said lightly to Orihime, smiling.

She blushed sheepishly and stared down at her lap.

With the damages at her current apartment, Orihime no longer had a door, among other things. It was obviously an uncomfortable situtation, and no longer a fit place for her to stay in. Ulquiorra had suggested that she change, quickly pack some important and valuable items, and go with him back to Urahara Shouten and deal with it later.

 _Or_ _until_ _my_ _landlord_ _decides_ _to_ _kill_ _me..._ she added to herself, worried.

"—But until you find a new place to live, I suppose you can stay," Kisuke was saying, "although I imagine you would have more room staying at Kurosaki's; he has a bigger house and Tia-chan is staying there already, or—"

"No," Ulquiorra said sternly, glaring at him. "She stays with _me_."

Orihime shot him a startled look. His expression indicated that he probably wouldn't want her to stay with even her female friends, but it wasn't as though she minded. She often craved Ulquiorra's company, anyway.

Kisuke raised an eyebrow at the couple, looking highly skeptical. "Are you two planning to sleep in the same—?"

"Ah, well," Orihime spoke up, her face now an embarrassed crimson, "I have my own futon, if it makes you feel any better, Urahara-s—"

"She has stayed in bed with me here before, and I have stayed in bed with her at her apartment," Ulquiorra butted in, shooting a narrow-eyed look at his guardian. "We will be fine."

"I don't entirely approve of a young lady like Orihime-chan sleeping every night in the same room as your boyfriend," Kisuke responded, his expression unsure and thoughtful, "if you understand what I'm saying..." However, in an instant, his expression did a one-eighty, a broad grin breaking across his face.

"Oh, who am I kidding? Go at it like rabbits, I say!"

"... Pardon?" Ulquiorra asked with deadpan.

"Every night! Every hour!" Kisuke cheered with a perverse, dreamy look on his face. "Moan at the top of your lungs so it echoes off the walls! I'll allow it!"

"U-Urah-hara-san!" an _even_ _more_ reddened Orihime exclaimed, frantically waving her hands in front of her. "Our relationship isn't... isn't that..." She struggled for the right word, but then turned to Ulquiorra to help her.

"You assume too many unnecessary things, Urahara Kisuke," Ulquiorra snapped, but interestingly, even he seemed a bit embarrassed, judging by the way he turned his head to the side.

Kisuke's smile was sly. "Oh-ho, but that is what I'm good for."

\- { - } -

A few days later marked the first day of the new semester.

After class was over, Ulquiorra found Orihime staring out the window outside his classroom. Even from where he was standing, he could see that she was mentally a bit distant.

Overall, she was fine. The redhead would often smile and laugh, enjoy her time with her nakama and with him; but sometimes she still had her darker instances where she reflected on more depressing subjects, and right now that showed. He expected as much. Although she remained strong in her resolve, she was still going to have those few moments of melancholy that tried to hinder her progress.

He approached her cautiously. She didn't move as he neared, obviously quite lost in thought. Coming up on her left, he lifted his right hand and reached across the back of her shoulders. He gently pressed his fingers against her right cheek from behind, turning her face so that she looked at him.

"Ah, Urukkun," she murmured with soft surprise. Her eyes were clouded with distraction, even with her attention on him. Her smile was forced, and there was nothing he hated more than seeing a fake smile on his woman's face.

"Is there something on your mind?" he asked her, using the arm around her to reel her in. She fell against him, grabbing onto his uniform to catch herself.

The tip of her nose brushed against his sternum. With reflex, she kissed his heart. "A lot," she muttered. "... the past—recent and..." She didn't finish, but she didn't have to; Ulquiorra already knew.

 _It_ _must_ _be_ _hard_ _for_ _her_ _to_ _let_ _go._

For a second, he wondered if she had been the same way just after the war—if his death had indeed haunted her, and if she had incredible difficulty letting go of that sentimental moment between them on the dome. Knowing her, she probably did. It was why she had looked forward to finding him in Soul Society... why she had the need to make sure _he_ had been okay. His death had been burned into her memory, just as watching her disappear in his arms had.

He would not allow himself to dwell on it, however; it would be useless to.

Nonetheless, Ulquiorra squeezed her against him, as if to make sure she was real.

"Um, Urukkun?"

He tilted his head down toward her. She was gazing up at him with an apologetic look.

"Handicrafts Club is today—"

He tried not to look annoyed, but it must've be automatic, for she chuckled at him. "I won't force you to come. But you don't have to wait for me."

He sighed. "How long is it?"

"Two hours or so..."

Ulquiorra scowled disapprovingly. "Or so?"

Orihime smoothed out the front of his uniform. Life returned to her eyes; to her curving lips. He wasn't sure what caused it, but he was confident enough to know that it was because of him. He wanted to be the source of her happiness, just as she was the source of his.

"You can handle not being around me for a bit, Urukkun. I'll see you at the shop, anyway!" Realizing what she just said, she blushed deeply, but didn't turn away from him.

Ah, yes. Temporarily, they would be sharing a home. He didn't know why she was so embarrassed by it.

He delicately pinched a reddened cheek, teasing her. "Fine," he said, releasing her. "But I am walking you there."

"Okay!"

She promptly reached out to hold his hand. She felt soft and warm as always, and with a tender look, he watched as his fingers weaved through hers.

 _My_ _heart._

Together, they headed out of the hallway.

"You know," she spoke up playfully as they proceeded down the stairs. "Your eyes sometimes have this really cute puppy dog look."

He glared at her. "Excuse me?"

She didn't notice how dismayed he was about it. "Your eyes are so big and green and pretty... but sometimes they look so pleading, too..."

"I did not realize that I appear like a street beggar," he scoffed.

"It's cute!"

"It's insulting."

She giggled and leaned against his arm affectionately. "This is why I love you, Urukkun."

"Because of _that_? What could you possibly love about my pride getting trampled by your foolish compar—"

"No!" she cut in with amusement, abruptly stopping in the middle of the staircase. It was so sudden that he would have almost tripped down the rest of the way if he hadn't reached for the wall to regain his balance.

"Onna," he grunted exasperatedly, "what are you doing?"

Instead of an immediate answer, he felt her soft body press him into the wall. A bit surprised, Ulquiorra peered down at her. Orihime wasn't really one to lead, especially in a public setting. For her to pin _him_ , with her smaller hands on either side of his torso and her form flush against his, made him both slightly confused and rather... seduced.

Those beautiful eyes stared up at him brightly. It was wondrous how she could sway him, to get him to loosen up like he never had before, to truly relax and be willing to show his love for her.

"I love you because you're you, and that makes me happy," she explained, leaning forward, and kissed him. Her mouth was soft and warm; full of the hearth she often exhuded. Everything about her was comfort to him—that and this emotion that went beyond a certain four-letter word.

It was this feeling that fueled their gentle kiss to immediately intensify. Both sets of lips pressing needfully, parting in order to taste each other more deeply; wanting to consume the other with this love.

"I still don't quite understand, Orihime," he breathed against her lips a moment later, in a husky, playful tone. With the dizzying whirlwind of passion guiding him, his index finger reached over and hooked into her white uniform shirt, against a middle button—threatening to undo it. "Show me why you love me." His free hand reached for her hip, sliding hers up against his.

"You're funny," she replied and kissed him again. Unluckily for him, it was anticlimactic, a short caress in comparison to what he had received from her a moment earlier. It left him frustrated. "Let's go. I might be late."

Orihime tried to step backward, but he grasped her by the waist, holding her in place. "Must you be on time?" he questioned in a deep voice. "No—let me correct myself. Do you even have to _go_?"

"I have to work on something," she explained with a small laugh.

His mouth brushed against her brow. "Ishida Uryuu will not care if you miss a day," he murmured.

"But _I_ will," Orihime said, her voice a little firmer. She stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the nose. "You're always so pouty," she observed in a cute voice.

Her ability to dissolve his annoyance was astounding. He forced down a smile and avoided her adoring stare. "Orihime..."

She gently grabbed his hands and removed them from around her waist. He was sure she could sense how indignant he was, but it would not, of course, be enough for her to change her mind. "Let's go now, okay?" She lifted her eyes to his pleadingly.

 _This_ _damn_ _woman._ How could anyone say no to that face of hers? "As you wish," he relented.

. .

They stopped in front of the classroom as soon as they came upon it. But just as Ulquiorra was about to depart, she grabbed the hem of his uniform coat.

"What?" he questioned, turning back around. "Have you changed your mind?"

"No, I just wanted to say thank you," she replied, smiling at him gratefully. "... You made me feel better today."

His eyes softened toward her. "Orihime," he muttered, "if I don't make you feel better every day, I find it a problem."

Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes fell to her shoes. "Ah, well..." Clearly, it wasn't a reply she had expected to get.

"Inoue-san?" called Uryuu from inside the room. He was already there with a few students, including a few of Orihime's classmates Ulquiorra recognized (and found terribly annoying). "Are you joining us?"

"Hai! Coming!" she called back. She turned to Ulquiorra again and began to blow him a kiss—

—but he caught the 'sending' hand, intertwining his fingers through hers. Why settle for a silly air-kiss when he could easily obtain the real thing? Ulquiorra crashed her into him and kissed her for real, until he was certain he would leave her soft little mouth swollen and reddened with his affection.

He also managed a smirk as he watched her disappear into the room on wobbly feet.

\- { - } -

"I don't think I have to ask for whom you're making that for."

Orihime jumped out of her seat, nearly stabbing herself with the thread needle. "I-Ishida-kun!" she stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

Uryuu smiled faintly and sat across from her, at the desk connected to hers. "Everyone else left. Are you sure you don't need me to stay?"

She glanced out the window to gauge the time of day. The sky was turning a soft pink and orange, indicating the lateness of the afternoon.

"No, it's okay, Ishida-kun," she replied with a smile. "Don't feel obligated to stay. I can clean up the club's supplies on my own."

"Actually, I'll have to insist," he answered politely. "I think your boyfriend would kill me if I left you alone at this time of day."

"But he knows I can take care of myself," she reassured him with raised brows.

"I'm talking about things... _not_ related to Hollows," he said. "They may appear at night and assault you."

"Ghosts?" Her eyes were suddenly wide with fear.

He smiled awkwardly. "... O-Oh, no, Inoue-san, nothing like that."

She still didn't quite understand him, but didn't bring up anymore questions. After the pause that followed, Uryuu decided to change the subject. "You're getting better, Inoue-san," he told her honestly.

Confused, Orihime looked down at the dark green scarf she was making for Ulquiorra. The end was a little crooked, and the white heart she was embroidering on it caused her more finger injuries than she thought possible, but—

"That's not what I meant," Uryuu corrected her softly, smiling. He seemed to be aware of her inner musings. He took off his glasses and began cleaning them with the end of his sleeve. "Inoue-san, you could've easily proved your strength just by showing off the fact that you had the Hougyoku, that it was stuck inside of you and that you'd forever be stronger than the rest of us... but you didn't."

Orihime watched him in silence, her mood growing more serious. Uryuu had never spoken to her like this before—like Ichigo and the others, he had limited her to the role of only the healer, safeguarding her, pushing her back so that they could do all the fighting.

"Instead, you showed us, even when we didn't want you to because of past events," he continued, staring at the spectacles in his hand. "You gained full control of that chaotic spell inside of you. You were brave."

Orihime looked at him gratefully, however... "I couldn't gather that courage alone," she murmured, her smile faint as her thumb caressed the scarf.

"What do you mean?" Uryuu noticed her stare at the scarf and glanced from her to it with puzzlement. He slipped his glasses back on.

"Ulquiorra-kun," she said with the utmost affection—with love beyond any of her friends' understanding. "... He challenged me when everyone babied me."

Uryuu hung his head in somewhat a guilty manner, but didn't interrupt her.

"I realized that with him, I was able to mature." She lifted the scarf to her lips, lightly kissing the heart on it. "So, even though you saw me grow as a fighter, I became strong mentally because Ulquiorra-kun believed in me, and let me prove it not only to everyone, but to myself."

Uryuu raised his head, to stare at her in awe; she couldn't tell if it was from something within Orihime herself, or if it was because of the love she and Ulquiorra shared—their strong, untouchable bond.

"You really see him so highly?" he asked her.

"Of course." No question about it. "He brings out the best in me..."

Uryuu averted his dark blue gaze, his finger tracing over the wood marks of the desk he was sitting in. "He grew soft; that guy," he said quietly. "Soft in a way that allowed his heart and mind to open up. And I guess it was all because of you."

Orihime smiled wistfully, her cheeks turning a faint pink. "I hope so."

There was a pause. She guessed that it was because he felt uncomfortable by her praise of Ulquiorra. But evidently, there seemed to be something else on his mind. His azure-colored stare was deep, intense and calculating. "You must still have questions, don't you?" he spoke up in a quiet voice.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Questions?" she repeated slowly.

Suddenly, she knew where this was going. She had been set on suppressing everything, forgetting about her quest to learn about _that_ _time_ altogether... but it seemed that Uryuu, for the moment, wasn't going to just yet. She wondered if he knew that it might break her heart; that it could take her on a haphazard trip of guilt.

"Inoue-san, would you still like to know the details of what happened to us?"

\- { - } -

That evening, after returning to the shop, Orihime retreated to her and Ulquiorra's room in silence.

Having been out of the room prior, Ulquiorra followed after her. He watched in confusion as she made her way to the standing lamp in the corner of the cramped quarters and turned it on, setting her bookbag and uniform jacket against the plain green stand. After all that, she just stood still.

What happened? She was fine this afternoon. He approached her cautiously. "... Orihime?"

"Ah, Urukkun, let me see your phone," she suddenly chirped, whirling around. She was smiling, acting as if the strange second of reflection didn't happen.

Deciding that it would be better to talk to her about it later, he obediently fished his cell phone—something he had just received from Urahara Kisuke that day—out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Without saying anything, she took it and began pressing a few buttons. The electronic display of the screen lit up against her concentrated eyes, giving them a lost and despondent look. It brought out her real mood underneath. While he found it beautiful, it also created an anxious churn in his gut.

"There!" she finally piped up again. "I put myself on speed dial. It'd be faster instead of scrolling down the contacts list to look for me."

He stared at her, his face a huge question mark. In fact, his puzzlement was the equivalent of a dozen or so question marks dancing over his head. He had no idea what she was talking about—and he was an intelligent person who caught onto things quickly, if he did say so himself. Either way, she might as well have been speaking another language.

Orihime giggled a bit at his expression and put her hand over his, physically guiding him through the supposed speed dial and contact list. "I'm sorry to say that it won't sense Hollows like Kurosaki-kun's does, but at least you can contact me from wherever you are." She glanced down at the phone menu. "You can even e-mail me and take pictures with it." Without warning, she took his cell out of his hands again. She then wrapped his arm around her waist to bring herself close beside him, and turned the phone backwards. Too confused to protest, he only stared at the phone as she swiveled her head to give him a random peck on the cheek.

Ulquiorra heard a fuzzy _snap_ sound and watched warily when Orihime stared at the screen. She smiled widely. "Uwaa~ so handsome!" She turned the phone toward him. "It's our picture!"

He narrowed his eyes at the small, digitalized version of the two of them. It wasn't as though he hasn't seen what he looked like before; it was just that to have his face frozen in time in this manner was rather unsettling. Especially with such a horridly stern expression next to Orihime's beautiful, affectionate gesture.

Orihime handed the device back to him. He held his hand out to take it, but then she retracted again. "Ooh, one more thing," she added hastily, and turned to skip to her bookbag.

"Onna..." he uttered impatiently.

From one of the front pockets, she pulled out her phone. With her back slightly hunched and facing him, he couldn't tell what she was doing with both of them.

When she finally returned to him, he saw that he now had somehing winged, black, and fuzzy dangling from his phone. Were those green painted dots on its face supposed to be eyes?

"Here!" she exclaimed, handing it back to him.

After giving it an intense, fire-inducing stare, he sighed. "I get it," he grumbled. "I remind everybody of bats. You do not need to shove it down my throat."

She pouted. "I've been saving that charm for until you got a phone of your own."

Ulquiorra looked down at her. Despite the somber expression in her eyes, she managed a beautiful blush.

His woman was so thoughtful and endearing. So he couldn't help but lean in and briefly kiss her as a thank you.

She sensed as much from him. "You're welcome," she replied sweetly.

The couple fell silent, and her lips finally uncurved.

Ulquiorra slipped his phone back into his pocket and snaked his arms around her waist. He examined her expression with an inquisitive frown.

"Urukkun... today..." she began, hesitating with what she wanted to admit. "Ishida-kun..."

He narrowed his eyes, suddenly full of malicious intent toward the Quincy. "Did he say something to upset you?"

Orihime reached up to rub his tensing arms. "No, Urukkun," she said. "He just... he just offered to tell me everything."

Was _that_ what she was upset about? If that was the case, she was handling it better than he expected. Perhaps he could breathe a sigh of relief because of that; everyone could. "So—"

"I didn't let him tell me," she broke in, annulling his guess.

"... I see." He paused. "If you no longer care to know, why are you still bothered? Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know..." She buried her face into him, using him as something she could retreat safely into.

Was she regretting not taking up on Ishida Uryuu's offer? He found no point. Every time she she saw herself use that spell, she cracked, and every time that Vasto Lorde tried to forcefeed the information, she closed her mind off. She was better off taking what she did know and make it into a learning experience she could apply into her future.

"Orihime, you aren't that naïve," he went on quietly. "I'm sure you have an idea of what happened. But even with that much, there is no benefit. You don't need any of that part of your past; as I don't need _my_ past as Espada."

She raised her head to stare at him.

"You were the one to accept me as I was, even when you knew exactly what I had done," he added. "The others—the shinigami from Soul Society, in particular—will do the same for you. After all, they all have past demons of their own." He took a few strands of her hair and slid his fingers along its length. "You are lucky in that you do not exactly remember anything. They should stay forgotten."

Orihime nodded slowly, taking in his words. "You're right," she whispered, and gently pressed her lips against his. "I'm sorry. I've been annoying with this lately, huh?"

"It's over, Orihime," he told her. One hand slid down, caressing the beautiful curve of her backside. "Meant to be locked away."

"Mm," she mumbled breathily in reply, her hands reaching upward to caress his face as they continued kissing.

"What time is it?" he murmured.

He felt her smile against his lips. "Check your phone, Urukkun."

Keeping one arm wrapped firmly around her waist and his mouth kneading against hers, Ulquiorra reached into his pocket to fish out his cell phone. He supposed he would have to get used to carrying the device. "Seven," he read, breaking away. He turned back to her. "Let's go out."

"Right now?" she asked, with a bit of incredulity.

"This room is cramped, Orihime," he said. "I would rather not be here for too long... unless we are going to bed."

"It's a school night," she pointed out. "Wouldn't you rather stay in?"

"... So you expect something _else_ of me. Is that what you meant?" he teased her in a low voice, his fiery emerald gaze traveling downward, past her lips, past her neck, and to her—

Suddenly, Orihime angled her head so that her eyes caught his wandering ones. "Ulquiorra-kun," she chided with a pout. "Not everything has to end with... with..." She turned pink, and cupped her hands over her mouth. "Sex," she finished in a tiny whisper, as if the word was taboo.

"Onna," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "you get embarrassed by the oddest things."

She turned redder. "T-That word is just so—you know what, let's go to the movies, okay?"

"Movies?" he echoed slowly, a look of doubt crossing his features.

"Oh, perfect!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with delight. "You've never been to one! It'll be a learning experience." She looked down at her uniform. "I'll have to change out of these clothes, though." She peered at her boyfriend awkwardly out of the corner of her eye. "Um... I guess I'll go to the bathroom and—"

"Just your clothes? Change in here," he said. He didn't mean that in a perverted way; it was just more efficient. They were both already inside the room, where both their clothes were, and he hoped that she was comfortable with her body in front of him just as he was with her.

"What? No!" she suddenly cried, waving her hands frantically in front of him. "I-I can't do that, Urukkun!"

Well, maybe that was not really the case, after all. "Onna, I have seen you naked," he told her. "I will be preoccupied with changing myself. What is the problem?"

She wrung the end of her skirt. "I don't know..."

With a thoughtful stare, he reached out and undid the bottom button of her shirt. "Then I will remove your clothes for you. You're taking up precious time."

"Uh.. um..." She made no move to stop him. Instead, she stood frozen, battling between modesty and submission.

Deciding for her, Ulquiorra roughly pulled her against him by grasping the now open white flaps of her shirt. He lowered his head to whisper to her. "What's the matter?"

Another button from the bottom went undone. Ulquiorra then blew gently into her ear. Orihime shuddered and fisted the front his shirt. With one arm, he tightened the embrace to steady her.

He smirked and grazed her reddened cheek with his lips, sneakily unbuttoning two more, thus exposing the creamy skin of her flat, smooth stomach. "Not everything must end with sex," he commented mischievously. He brushed a thumb over it. The touch against her sensitive flesh made her gasp. "Is that not right?"

"W-W-Why are you always so _frisky_?" she stammered helplessly.

"It's more amusing to persuade you in this manner than simply telling you," he answered easily.

She turned away, embarrassed that she submitted to him so quickly. "Well, I'll get changed on my own..."

"What?"

Without warning, she wrestled out of his arms and scurried off to her ridiculously designed suitcase on the opposite wall.

 _Damn_ _it._ "... Suit yourself," he scoffed to her back. He had been hoping she would just give in to him instead.

Slightly annoyed, he turned around to face his wardrobe.

A few minutes after opening it, though, he felt bare arms fold across his stomach and a soft, warm body press into his back. She was no longer covered by her shirt, he realized; and intrigued, he dipped his gaze. He watched her hands generously feel his stomach as they lowered to his pants. Hot lust surged into the area below his belt. He suppressed an eager sigh as her fingers brushed over his—

"Ulquiorra-kun?" she asked in a soft voice, her hand now slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Her bra-clad breasts were overwhelmingly supple on his back. All Ulquiorra could imagine was what they would feel like in his grasp, and what kind of moans would spill out of her mouth when he molded them with his hands.

He let out a long breath through his nose, letting the fire of passion thrum warmly inside him and take him over. "Yes?" he asked, feigning nonchalance.

Ulquiorra felt a light kiss against the back of his shoulder. "I don't want to go out anymore," she told him. She sounded bold, especially in comparison to how she was acting earlier. Then again, even at the slightest hint of arousal, that shyness disappeared in an instant. Underneath the innocent act seen by her friends, she had an amazing intimate side.

Orihime started sliding his pants past his hips.

A dirty smirk forced its way to his face. "Then we will stay in," he affirmed.

Thus began another night that ended with sex.

\- { - } -

"Princesa must be pretty damn strong," spoke up Grimmjow, who was sitting on one of the rocks of the underground training facility. "I mean, to help kill a Vasto Lorde and shit."

"If that was all she had with the Hougyoku, it was still nothing in comparison to what Aizen Sousuke had boasted to us when we were Espada," his training partner, Tia answered. She was leaning against a rock across from him.

The two's spar had been interrupted by Kisuke and Yoruichi, who were retelling Orihime's last fight to them, as told to him by the ones who were there... among other topics.

"Well, with it, it still wouldn't be her full potential," interjected Kisuke. He smiled mysteriously. "Only time will tell if she releases something else. But seeing as that is not a concern for her right now..." He pointed a thumb to his chest. "... it'll stay safely locked away here."

"In her heart?" Yoruichi asked.

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "How else did she receive the ability to use the Shun Shun Rikka in the first place? It wasn't her brother or the memory of him alone. Nor was it _just_ the Hougyoku."

With those words, Kisuke reached into his pocket. When he pulled his hand back out, he opened his palm.

In it was the remaining part of the Hougyoku—the one that had attached itself to Orihime in the explosive midst of her intervention.

Grimmjow wasn't surprised at the reveal, but the blonde and the cat clearly were.

Yoruichi was the first to speak up. "How did you—?"

"Our guess was," Kisuke explained, gesturing to himself and Grimmjow, "that Orihime-chan had been injured enough for it to slip out, but for some reason, that Hollow didn't know that it had separated from her."

"We found it when we tracked her down after her first fight with him," Grimmjow continued. "We didn't tell anyone at the time."

"So by the time she, Kurosaki-san, and Kuchiki-san ultimately _defeated_ the Hollow..." Tia spoke up with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out the timeline.

"I guess she didn't need it," Kisuke said with a shrug. "I mean, since she was practically fused to it since the Winter War, it's been hers." He smiled. "So if she calls for it, it'll go back to her. But for now, I'll seal it in a different way so that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Then when you were speaking about _it_ being locked away inside," Yoruichi chimed in, "you didn't mean the Hougyoku."

Kisuke smiled cheekily at his little word trickery. "Nope, I didn't." He closed his palm again. "Even though this belongs to her... that strength she showed was her own."

"I didn't realize a heart could be that powerful," Tia commented. She lifted a hand and touched her own. "Didn't she used hers to revive many who had been perished by her in the first place?"

"A heart in pure chaos that, in the end, mends destruction," Kisuke worded poetically, with an almost dreamy look on his face. "Wouldn't that make a fancy story? An action-filled manga with a sidestory of epic romance?"

Yoruichi looked at him oddly. "What kind of things go on in your head, I wonder."

\- { - } -

It was close to midnight. Ulquiorra was lying next to Orihime on his side facing her, one arm folded under his head and the other resting loosely over her side.

Admiring his softened, slumbering face, she reached out to gingerly trace her fingers over his jawline. Had she ever taken the time to appreciate him and all that he has done for her? Looking back on everything, she realized that she had been a brat—running away when all Ulquiorra did was try to be there for her. To _love_ her, at that. She had no reason to hide anything; not from someone who never stopped believing in her.

Orihime scooted in to tenderly kiss him, moving some stray locks of dark hair out of his face. Keeping her own face close, she brushed her mouth against his nose, and then his cheek.

She was happy. This was bliss lying beside her; her heart. And hopefully, maybe this person in bed with her will also be her future.

Orihime rubbed her nose against his and touched her lips to his again.

This time, he stirred. Unlike a few nights prior, Ulquiorra was in less of a cranky mood and in more of a curious one. He blinked, adjusting his green, almost glowing eyes in the darkness.

"Why are you still awake?" he asked her groggily.

"Why did you wake up?" she asked back.

"I don't know," he replied. He brought her close to his chest. "Maybe because I felt you doing things to me, you strange woman." He offered a tired kiss against her lips. "What is it?"

Orihime no longer had secrets to keep. Therefore, her answer for him was immediate. "I'm happy," she told him, resting her head against his arm. "And it's making me feel all restless."

"What could make you happy at this hour?"

She threaded her hands into his hair and pulled his face into her, against her heart. She was sure he could feel it beat thunderously with excitement, but she didn't care. "Because I have so much to look forward to," she answered, her lips against his head. "... And I have you. I'm so thankful."

Ulquiorra sighed and stroked her back. "I'm glad," he said, his voice muffled by the cotton tank top covering her bosom. "Now will you—"

Full of love, Orihime buried her eyes into his hair and tightened her hold, unknowingly suffocating her beloved.

"Orihime—" he protested, grabbing her by the waist. He tried to pry her off, but to no avail. "I can't brea—"

She managed to roll him onto his back, pinning and hovering over him. He gasped in a few breaths before he narrowed his eyes at her. "Onna..."

Unaffected by his irritation, she smiled broadly, staring down at him with affection.

He tried to continue glaring, but his expression instead melted into a ghost of a smile. He just couldn't stay mad at her. "You are much stronger than I realized," he told her teasingly, changing the subject. "You could have killed me with just your..." His voice trailed off, but he finished by reach up to pull the top of the tank top down a little, revealing some of her cleavage.

She knitted her brows with concern, not noticing the gesture at all. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he said, letting go of her tank top. "Don't worry about it. Get some sleep."

"... Okay."

She stretched herself on top of him, intending to use him as her bed and pillow. She gave a lingering kiss against his shoulder, and then tilted her face up to his ear. "I love you," she whispered peacefully.

She felt his hand run affectionately through her hair. His other arm slid across her back. "And I love you," he replied softly.

They lapsed into silence... but that didn't last long.

"Urukkun?"

"Hm," he spoke up lazily, sounding half-asleep.

"Is... Is my chest really that..." She dropped her voice to a low, meek tone. "... _dangerous_?"

"Dangerous?" There was a pause, but then something strange happened.

At first, she thought he had simply hitched a breath, but soon discovered that it turned into a quiet chuckle, one that she could feel rumble from his chest and vibrate gently against her. It was a foreign sound to her ears, so new and beautiful that for a second, she went still with astonishment.

It was the first time she had heard him laugh.

It was... _wonderful_.

Tucking her head against the crook of his neck, she softly laughed along with him until she finally fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

 

_. ._

_. ._

_. ._

_. ._

_. .  
_

**\- { EXTRA } -**  
_-_ _{ eye of the pantera } -_ _  
_

Ever since Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez "transferred" to Karakura High School, he had formed quite the reputation.

He was feared at school, but not too feared to the point of isolation—

"It's J-J-J-Joug-g-g-g-gaimu-u-u-u-u-san!" a thin, easily startled male classmate of his stuttered as the ex-Sexta entered the hallway.

Grimmjow shot him a devilish smile.

The nameless student disappeared quickly into the classroom.

—popular—

"There he is!" hissed one nondescript female to her friend in the hallway. "Jougaimu-kun! I think his muscles got even bigger than yesterday!"

He resisted the urge to stop and arrogantly flex in front of them. _Damn straight._

—and overall well-received, even though some found him a bit intimidating.

"I heard Jougaimu-senpai beat the hell out of someone yesterday! A yakuza!" he overheard another student exclaim as he passed by.

He loved a good rumor mill.

"You really have a way with the student body here," Tia muttered, somewhat impressed by his attention. "What notoriety."

Yes, notoriety. Grimmjow liked that word. "So I'm fucking notorious," he said to himself with a wide, slightly menacing grin. With that smug attitude, he slipped into their classroom. Tia, meanwhile, tried not to roll her eyes as she followed.

Humans weren't so bad. Not bad at all.

. .

After school, Grimmjow bumped into Ichigo on the way to the locker area.

"Oh, hi," Ichigo greeted rather blandly. He seemed quite disinterested.

The upperclassman glared at him. _Asshole._ Too stubborn to let the shinigami be, Grimmjow decided to keep talking to him, since he just seemed _so annoyed_ by his presence. "What's up?" he asked, following after Ichigo the rest of the way.

"Going home..." the orange-haired teen replied, craning his neck briefly to give Grimmjow an odd look. "Why?"

"Wanna train at the shop?"

Ichigo scratched his head, clearly confused as to why he was suddenly receiving so much attention from the former Espada. "... Uh, where's Tia? Aren't you always with her?"

"Where's that chibi _you're_ always with?" Grimmjow asked, as if challenging him.

"..."

"Well, you takin' up on my offer?" The blue-haired man smirked, eager to fight. "It's not often I'm this nice, ya know."

"You call that _nice_? Good try." Airily, Ichigo stepped past him and opened his locker, gathering what he needed to take home; while, of course, ignoring Grimmjow.

_Fucking asshole._

Grimmjow's own locker was on the opposite side of Ichigo's, so the blue-haired male decided to do the same. As he shut his locker again, he turned back to the shinigami, who was in the midst of sticking a notebook into his bookbag.

Despite his attitude toward him, Grimmjow really didn't have anything _against_ Ichigo. In fact (even though he hated to admit it), he respected the guy.

However, he was well-aware of the stone wall that stood between them. The war was always left unspoken; not just the part about that _princesa_ wreaking havoc, but a lot of things in the middle. He wasn't sure if it was because everyone was intent on moving on, or if it was because it was still a touchy subject in general.

Either way, he was going to get past whatever this blockage was. It was getting ridiculous.

"Hey, Dickhead," Grimmjow said from out of nowhere. "I got somethin' to say."

"I have a name, you know," Ichigo retorted.

"Whatever, listen."

"Do you _want_ me to run my zanpakutou through you—" Ichigo stopped, noticing the oddly sullen and thoughtful look on the ex-Espada's face. With a wary look, he faced him fully. "Fine..." He gestured to the doors. "Let's walk."

The two exited the doors of the building, side-by-side. It was weird for Grimmjow to have his former enemy walking beside him so civilly—both unarmed and unglaring.

Grimmjow glanced around at the tranquility of the trees around campus swaying to the breeze, the laughter of happy human beings around him... these were a few things that couldn't be found in Hueco Mundo. There were a thousand scenarios that could have determined his fate—but he ended up in the living world, walking with someone he had once been determined to kill, and in a world he once blindly hated.

He found his blue eyes boring into the open gateway ahead, lost in thought.

"Are you gonna tell me what's on your mind or not?"

Grimmjow tsked, turning away, looking at anything but the shinigami in his company. "You could've just finished me off," he spoke up gruffly, not allowing his voice to grow soft in front of Ichigo. "Or even let Nnoitra finish me off. Hell, you could've done a lot of things."

Ichigo's gaze shifted as well; he remembered that fight... perhaps unwillingly.

"But in retrospect, you showed me some instance of honor. I guess now I realize that, you know... that's sort of respectable." Grimmjow cleared his throat. "... Thanks."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, but managed a small smile. "That's old shit, you know." His eyes fell on Grimmjow's, finally catching his light blue gaze. "Humans aren't so bad, are they?"

Grimmjow smirked, remembering that he had been thinking that exact thing earlier that day. This was a much better context, so far. "Not bad at all."

He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It felt good and light; much more so when he woke up in Soul Society with significantly less _bone_ on his face.

The two continued walking, stopping outside the school on the sidewalk. The atmosphere between them became rather serene, like that stone wall had crumbled into pieces.

Ichigo looked off in the distance, down the sidewalk where he would eventually go home. "Oi."

Grimmjow was about to step off, to head in the opposite direction to the shop, but stopped when the shinigami called his name. "What?"

"Wanna hang out somewhere?" the orange-haired teen asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. He was avoiding looking at him in the eye, his brown eyes skimming the breaks in the concrete. "I don't have anything to do."

Rather than responding to the offer, Grimmjow sneered. "Did you... just ask me out?"

Ichigo looked mortified. " _What_? Hell no! Why does it have to automatically mean something like _that_? You don't even know what you're talking about!"

"It's because you looked fucking _awkward_ doing it! Princesa looks like that when she hangs out with Ulquiorra!"

The doctor's son gritted his teeth with irritation. "The hell are you saying!" He whirled back around, intending on going home, after all. "Forget I said anything!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

The two fiery-tempered boys stomped off.

However, Grimmjow was soon intercepted by another.

"What's the matter, Grimmjow?" asked a smooth, familiar female voice. "Lovers' spat?"

Grimmjow nearly jumped out of his skin.

Tia approached him, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, although he suspected that she had been eavesdropping on him and Ichigo from behind the gate.

He scowled at her as she walked up to him, a small, amused smile on her face. He hated her sometimes. She always knew how to sneak up on him when he least expected it, and was always able to read _right through him_ with those steady eyes. It was like he couldn't keep a thought to himself because she would just read it like a book.

He wondered if people with green eyes were always this annoyingly observant.

"What kind of bullshit are you spewing, bitch?" he simmered, his and her feet automatically taking them to Urahara Shouten.

Never affected by his anger, she chuckled and patted him on the arm. He recoiled from her, but she seemed to be used to such actions.

"If you actually _let_ Kurosaki-san spend time with you, then things will become less awkward," she said. "I have trouble understanding why you misunderstood his intentions, though."

"Well, since you were spying on me, anyway," Grimmjow said with an eyeroll, "you should already know why."

"... That's a poor excuse."

They came upon the first intersection, but rather than waiting for the light, Tia almost stepped into the road even though the crosswalk signal was red.

_The fuck?_

Grimmjow shot his hand out to grab her arm, gruffly pulling her backward just as a car sped past them, right where she would have been standing if not for his intervention.

"The fuck's wrong with you!" he growled, glaring down at the woman with him. "Didn't you see the damn sign?"

His heart nearly popped out of his chest.

Tia, for once, expressed heart-racing surprise from her near-brush with death. "I apologize," she muttered softly. "It seems that I think too much when I walk."

"Well, quit it." He let go of her abruptly, embarrassed that he was actually touching her. It wasn't normal of him to make physical contact with anyone unless it was for sparring. "Thinkin' about what, anyway?"

"Some ways you and and Kurosaki-san could better your relationship," she replied softly. "You are both quite—"

"Tia..." he sighed loudly, with disapproval.

She gave him a sidelong glance. "What?"

He scratched his head and shoved a hand into his pocket, suddenly feeling _awkward_.

_I'm no better than that orange-haired punk, huh?_

He was often explicitly harsh with everyone else, including Tia, but she was still different. She was a protective figure to him. _Always_ patient. She thought of others often—he guessed that fixing other people and helping them was her own way of atonement, although at times, it irritated him for some reason.

Sometimes, she just made him feel so selfish.

"... You need to think about yourself for once," he said quietly. It was rare for him to speak so mildly—he was all electric-blue fire, all the time. She knew this, too, which was probably why she didn't even say anything, only choosing to stare at him with confused wonder.

Grimmjow didn't want to look back at her, but he ended up doing so, anyway.

The shade of green in her eye color was better than Ulquiorra's. By far.

And then the light changed.

As if the silent and oddly tender moment never happened, they crossed the street. Things returned to normal.

But Grimmjow, for some reason, couldn't forget the few seconds where he felt both uncomfortable and pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is an epilogue.


	15. In Other Words, I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness and luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I actually finished!
> 
> Again, thank you, my loyal and wonderful readers for staying with this story. I worked hard on this story... and in the process neglected all my original stories and some of my other fandoms (whoops!). XD
> 
> I know I've been fickle about some details of the story, but hey, it's a WIP, so it's not going to be perfect~
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Playlist:** "Fly Me to the Moon" by Olivia Ong (cover)

 

"Ulquiorra-kun, do you know anything about this?" Orihime whispered to her boyfriend.

"No," he told her flatly.

She frowned. "Really?"

"Yes. And in any case, I do not trust him alone with you when it comes to his 'secrets.'"

"But it's Urahara-san!"

"Exactly," he muttered with a pointed look. "If you live here long enough, you will understand how conniving this man is."

She didn't have a response. Ulquiorra was stubborn, but she didn't feel like arguing. She was too anxious about why Kisuke had told her, in such a mysterious tone, that he needed her to come with him. She was also puzzled about where exactly in the training grounds they were going. They were already at the opposite end of where the entrance was.

"I can hear everything you're saying, Ulqui-kun," Kisuke spoke up. "That's so mean, you know..."

"Then tell us the point before you drag us into your idiocy," Ulquiorra said impatiently.

Kisuke waved his hand up and down a few times to calm him down. "All right, all right. We only have a little more to go."

A few minutes later, they came upon a cluster of boulders. Nothing exciting, not at first. But after stopping behind the rocks, in the shadows of far corner of the training grounds, Kisuke used his cane to tap heavily against the ground. The gesture was purposeful, in a pattern akin to Morse code.

He stepped backward in time for Orihime and Ulquiorra to see a bright spark cut across the ground, forming a perfect circle with a diamater of about two feet. Like magic, the ground quaked slightly, and something cylindrical rose above ground, small clouds of dust forming as the ground broke. Ulquiorra hastily pulled her back with him to give them breathing room.

As soon as the dust cleared, Orihime realized what the point of this visit was.

In a glass case, floating in mid-air, was a piece of stone familiar to her—the Hougyoku.

She immediately put a hand to her chest, quizzical fingers grasping desperately at her heart.

Next to her, Ulquiorra furrowed a brow. He understood from the get-go, but... "This Hougyoku..." he began in a quiet voice. "How? And when?"

"I'm sure she remembers her first encounter with that Hollow," Kisuke replied, with a meaningful glance toward Orihime.

It was hard for her to forget being impaled by the enemy. Even to this day, her own boyfriend didn't know what exactly happened to her. She knew he wouldn't take it well; he didn't like seeing or hearing about her being gravely injured.

Ulquiorra gave her a somewhat suspicious side glance. "If it had been embedded inside her body," he reasoned, "then it must have been a bad enough injury for it to come out without either of us noticing."

 _I helped my nakama... without any of this stone's power,_ she realized, her gray orbs widening.

No, that wasn't it.

 _They helped_ me _,_ she corrected herself. _This was my fight._

_And all along, all I needed was my heart to guide me. What Urahara-san is showing me is that I'm just as strong; that I'm a warrior in my own right._

_... I'm no longer someone 'who will only be in the way.'_

She looked toward Kisuke, tears in welling her eyes. "Urahara-san..."

He chuckled. "This wasn't any of my doing. All I did was rescue it and seal it from outside danger."

She wiped her eyes. "Still... " She glanced at the Hougyoku inside the capsule. "This _validates_ so much... and you showing it to me means that you do, too."

Kisuke's head rose slightly. Under the raccon-like shadows on his face, she could make out a somewhat wide-eyed expression. "Is that so...?" He mumbled, more to himself than to either her or Ulquiorra. Surely, he must be thinking the same thing she was—what he had said to her before she left for Hueco Mundo; his doubts of her fighting resolve, the doubts of the others.

He cast her a tender look. "Well, that must be true then." Unlike what Ulquiorra warned her about, the shop owner looked sincere and grateful. "Thank you, Orihime-chan." After a pause, he added, "And I should apologize on behalf of the Gotei 13 for seeing you so poorly... even up to now."

She looked away, unsure of how she felt about Yamamoto Genryuusai's actions toward her and the entire situation. She wasn't up to putting that aside yet. Her heart still soured when he and Kurotsuchi Mayuri crossed her mind, as well as Rangiku to a much smaller extent. But it wasn't as though she could control their plans and intentions.

"Oh..." she murmured contemplatively. For someone so chipper and deceptively naïve, she looked mature beyond her teenage years. "They must have mistaken me for someone who couldn't get a grip on her strength—both inside and out."

Next to her, Ulquiorra nodded once, silently approving. It was wonderful to have someone who believed in her from the beginning... but even more so to have just as much confidence on her own.

Kisuke, meanwhile, laughed. "That is true, Orihime-chan. Very true."

. .

After burying the Hougyoku capsule again, Kisuke left the two of them alone.

Orihime stared at the patch of ground where it was kept, and then gripped the lapel of her uniform jacket, where her pins were situated now.

Something else bothered her a bit. Before, she didn't want to say anything to Ulquiorra or any of her friends just yet because she wanted time to think things through first, but after seeing the Hougyoku in its display case, she felt more sure.

"Urukkun, I've been thinking about that night," she finally spoke up. "With the Hollow."

"I told you to leave the past behind you," he reminded her with disapproval. "You are thinking too much."

"I know, I know," she said, "but... that void... I don't think I got out of it with my powers alone."

He glared at her. "Don't tell me these things and expect me to believe you."

She frowned at his reaction.

"I know you give me the benefit of the doubt, Onna," he went on without waiting for her response, "but it feels as though you mock me when you say _I_ have any control over anything given to _you_ —"

"Urukkun, I'm serious!" she insisted, grabbing his hand. "I swear I'm not just trying to make you feel better!"

He shut up. His expression was still rather stern, but he allowed Orihime to explain herself.

She held his hand up and kissed it. "I was empowered by something, but it felt foreign—like it didn't come from inside me." She stared down at his knuckles, her lips still resting against the back of his fingers in thought. "It... it felt like _you_. That's the honest truth. I really believe you helped me burn a hole through the void."

Ulquiorra's face finally softened. She wouldn't lie to him, and he realized this. "The Hougyoku gave me something I wished for as well, then," he murmured.

"Hm?"

"I wanted to fight." His eyes fell to the ground. "I remember wishing that I could have protected you... and I suppose that it was a pure gesture." He slowly put a hand to his own chest. His brows were furrowed with thought. "It was the first time I yearned for something so ardently."

Orihime couldn't imagine how broken-hearted Ulquiorra had been when she burned away into the void— _she_ was his _heart._

"I should thank it for more than that," Orihime confessed. With a blush, she turned back to Ulquiorra. "... It gave me you."

He quirked a brow. "Even back then, my existence was something you desired?"

"You never had the chance to really _live_ ," she responded. "The way you died was so sad—I couldn't help but mourn for you." At the memory, she sighed. It was such a depressing thing to reflect on. "I thought I'd never see the day you'd come back for that chance."

"I see," he replied, setting a hand against her head. "... I cannot thank you enough."

Her hand rose to the collar of her jacket. With a careful motion, she slid one of the two pins from her lapel and attached it affectionately to his.

Ulquiorra looked down at her with a furrowed brow.

A pause hung thoughtfully in the air, Orihime allowing him a moment to think through the gesture. She knew she wouldn't have to say anything else; he always understood her.

Wordlessly, she turned, prepared to return to the center of the training grounds. And then she heard him speak up.

"Orihime."

She offered a sideways glance. "Hm?"

From out of nowhere, something long and thin swung at her. With reflex, her shield popped up to deflect it.

Ulquiorra, who was suddenly armed with a wooden sword without her knowledge, skidded back from her defense's recoil.

Orihime blinked in confusion, a bit rattled from the sudden attack. "U-U-Ulquiorra-kun?"

Where did he even keep that bokken this entire time?

"When you fought," he explained, "I saw that you stood on your own two feet without me. Rather than me protecting you, it was the other way around." His gaze dipped to the ground. "I was defenseless; always dependent on you. In battle, you work hard for my sake, and I have given you little in return."

She frowned. "It's not like that—"

"I have not trained vigorously enough," he went on, raising his eyes back to her. He seemed more determined. "And if there is any spark of power within me, as you said, I request that you help me hone my skills and discover what is my own."

Moved, she lifted a hand to her heart. "... You really think I can...?" she breathed, her voice trailing off with wonder.

"Orihime," he said, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. "I want to stand on equal footing with you."

She stared at him with a stunned expression. _... Me?_

Not Grimmjow, not Ichigo, not any of the shinigami from Soul Society, but her. Ulquiorra, who was once the intense, powerful, frigid Fourth Espada, the most loyal of Aizen Sousuke's army, wanted to stand on equal footing with _her_.

"Wouldn't you want someone more heroic?" she dared to ask him.

Momentarily letting down his guard, he walked to her and reached for her face with his hand, cupping her cheek. "To me, there is no one more heroic than the human woman who escaped a Vasto Lorde's abysmal void and saved my life," he answered. With that, he leaned in to kiss her.

Her eyes widened as he slowly broke away.

"Urukkun..." she breathed. "I..."

He looked at her questioningly. "Yes, Orihime?"

All of a sudden, a burst of yellow jutted in-between her and Ulquiorra, making him stumble back a few steps.

"Onna," he reprimanded, more out of surprise than dismay.

Payback.

She giggled, sheepishly scratching the back of her head. "I guess you shouldn't have let your guard down."

His lips slowly stretched to an understanding smirk. "Indeed."

Wooden sword gripped securely in his hand, he shot forward, beginning the spar.

\- { - } -

Ulquiorra-kun?

_Orihime squeezed her eyes shut.. and then opened them. Not satisfied, she did it again. She realized then that it made no difference. The darkness was endless. She felt like she was floating in space, a weak gravitational force pulling her along the slow current of nothing._

_"Ulquiorra-kun!"_

_Where was she?_

_She suddenly heard something faint in the distance. She was unsure if she physically heard it, but it no less affected her heart. It, in fact, sharply pierced her chest._

"Orihime?"

 _"Urukkun!"_ _she shouted in vain. Her words were swallowed by the dense emptiness, unheard._

"ORIHIME! ONNA!"

_In the pitch black of her prison cell, she reached out but felt nothing in her grasp._

_She bit her lip with disappointment. She thought that by some miracle, she could touch him again; that she could penetrate these dark walls with her abilities and return to her beloved._

"WHERE IS MY WOMAN!"

_She almost didn't recognize Ulquiorra's voice. It was unusually frantic and hoarse; devastated._

_"I'm right here!" she screamed, tears quickly forming in her eyes._

_It was no use. As long as she was here, he couldn't hear her. Around her was just desolation, made only marginally better by hearing Ulquiorra's voice even with its distress. It was her only indication that he was alive._

_There was no escape, otherwise. Of this, she was certain. She was lost in another dimension, faded into oblivion, out of Ulquiorra's arms._

_At least... she could be thankful that the searing pain she had experienced just before was gone—_

_"No..." she breathed with horror, realizing what it could mean._

_She was dead, wasn't she?_

_"Sorry," she whispered into the thick air, lifting a hand to her breaking heart. She never meant to leave Ulquiorra alone in the world._

_A sob burst out of her. And once one spilled, she couldn't stop. All she wanted was to go home; to her friends and to_ him _. "I'm sorry, Ulquiorra-kun. I'm so—"_

_Wait._

_She clutched the fabric of her shirt against her sternum with renewed hope._

_If she was dead, then she should have had a chain screwed into her chest. It was the way of the world and its afterlife; it was the purpose of shinigami in the first place. Moreover, she would've been chained to the place she died in, not here in this empty space._

"And that fade is how you trick a little girl into thinking she can destroy a Vasto Lorde."

_A fade._

_She had faded away, but..._

_..._ I'm not dead.

_She had a chance. And as long as she was alive, she was going to take it. She was going to save her friends, and she was going to prove how strong she was._

Hougyoku-dono? _Orihime thought briefly, as if she could speak to the mysterious stone itself._ Please grant me this wish. Please let me be with Ulquiorra-kun again. With everyone.

_Orihime extended her hands. She hoped that her will and her heart could surpass this boundary and reach back into the living world._

_She let out a long breath, gathering herself, and shut her eyes._

Please.

_Her heart beat louder than ever, as if it too was gathering energy. It was different from—_

Different from? _She questioned to herself suddenly interrupting what was going to lead her back to.._

... those memories. _The whiteness, the dome, her looking up at it... the discovery of not knowing how to control the chaos around and within her. It was all she remembered, which should have been enough to haunt her._

This is how it's different, _she thought._ I have control.

Orihime... _called a voice in her head._

_Suddenly, the blackness that felt as synthetic as the guises the Hollow wore crumbled away, burning out of her sight like charring paper. Behind a small window of space revealed the park. The others didn't seem to spot her yet, but she, on the other hand, saw something that made her freeze in horror—her beloved in the hateful grip of the Hollow._

_The gesture was familiar._

_Ulquiorra's scream in her apartment as he lost his arm echoed through her head._

The Hollow's going to kill him!

_She couldn't lose Ulquiorra.  
_

Don't touch him... _she silently muttered, her eyes boring into the Hollow's back._ Don't touch him!

_The vehemence in her being seemed to ignite new energy within. Almost in reaction to her inner cries, she observed as something flew out of Ulquiorra's hand and swerved behind the enemy. With a speed and determination she had never seen Tsubaki fly in, he sliced heavily through the Hollow's shoulder, dismembering the arm that dared to try and kill Ulquiorra._

_The action was full of malice—something Orihime had once wavered in. It wasn't that she was pacifist; it was because she didn't have the confidence to fight as brutally as the rest of her nakama did. She was always pushed back. Always overshadowed; overwhelmed._

_Not anymore._

_Orihime stepped forward, out of the weakening, corroding void the Hollow tried to trap her in. It dissolved behind her, disallowing her enemy anywhere to retreat to. It will no longer be able to escape. It will have no choice but to fight her._

_This time, she will take charge and fight as hard as her comrades always do._

_Because_ no one _touched her love, this manifestation of her heart;_ no one _._

. .

"Onna."

The girl felt an involuntary groan burst through her lips as she turned over in the futon, away from the source of the deep, smooth voice. She squeezed her teddy bear, Murci-kun, tighter against her, like it could help her cling to slumber.

"... Sometimes I find it unnerving that you hold that thing more than me at night," the voice retorted in a dry tone. She felt a warm hand run down her arm. "Onna. Wake up."

"Mm-mm," she sleepily disagreed.

"You are the one who scheduled that appointment with the realtor today."

She made another groggy hum, but forced herself to lie onto her back and flutter her eyes open.

Ulquiorra leaned over her, frowning. "I could not get you up the first time, so you overslept. I had to call that person and tell her to reschedule your appointment two hours later than planned."

Suddenly alert, Orihime quickly sat up. With deftness, he clamped his hands on either side of her face to keep her head from colliding with his. Who knew how dangerous that could have been...

"You did that all by yourself?" she asked him in a bewildered voice.

He furrowed a brow. "Of course I did. It was not difficult."

She laughed softly and leaned against him. "Mm, that's good..."

From out of nowhere...

"Orihime."

She blinked, startled. "Huh?"

"You fell asleep again. For a few seconds." He ran a hand through her hair, untangling the knots formed from her deep slumber. "You're still smiling," he added with a small one of his own. "You must have rested well."

Orihime clearly understood his subtext.

_No more nightmares._

Well, she did dream something last night, but it wasn't anything that warranted panic in the middle of the night. And it looked like she was catching up on all the sleep she missed since the nightmares and stress first appeared.

"I guess I better get ready, then." Not awake enough to actually walk to her suitcase, Orihime literally rolled her way out of the futon.

"... Onna, don't be lazy."

"But I'm still sleepy...!"

Unaffected by his chiding, Orihime popped the suitcase open with a bit of a sullen sigh.

_Another realtor appointment, huh?_

As she stared at her folded clothing, motionless, she sensed Ulquiorra, with nothing else to do, coming up to her. He noticed her frown.

"Is something the matter?" he asked her, sitting down next to her. His expression turned stern. "... Orihime."

She turned to him. "Oh, it's nothing about _that_!" she reassured him, laying her fingers affectionately against his face. She blushed, then hung her head in embarrassment. "It's just that I liked living with you."

It has been a month since she moved into Urahara Kisuke's already overcrowded shop and household, but already, she has grown attached to the place and to the residents in it. Moreover, she had gotten drastically closer to Ulquiorra. Although their relationship was technically only a few months old, she felt that as a couple, they've matured a lot together.

She, however, didn't want to continue imposing on them, especially with so little room for guests in the first place. So, she _slowly_ searched for apartments in the meantime, simultaneously prolonging her stay.

Tia had come along with her a few times to see the prospects, but either one, the other, or both of them would find something unsatisfactory. But with Ulquiorra's observational skills starting to rub off on Orihime, she has begun suspecting something off about the blonde's constant rejections of apartments...

"It's not like you won't see me every day, Orihime," he reminded her.

"Yeah, but..." She didn't finish. Instead, the color on her face deepened to a rose red. "Forget it. I'm just being weird." She laughed awkwardly. It hurt her a little that living and not living with her didn't make much of a difference to Ulquiorra, but she guessed she would have to blame that on his not understanding what it implied.

He paused, surveying her expression with intensity. It made her self-conscious. "Staying together," he finally rationalized, "brings you a much higher level of intimacy with me, doesn't it?"

"It doesn't for you?" she couldn't help but ask, and immediately pursed her lips together. She had meant to keep that to herself.

"Of course it does," he answered, resolute. "But you are the one insistent about getting another apartment for yourself and _Tia_."

"Right..." she sighed.

He kissed her cheek and moved to her ear. "But if you want me to live with you, I will," he added softly. "Without question."

She felt her face heat up. "L-Live...?" She failed to finish, becoming both confused and extremely flustered. She thought he didn't understand what living together as a couple meant, but now, it was clear that he felt the same way. And since the suggestion hung in the air, Ulquiorra, in his own quiet way, seemed enthusiastic about it.

"Are you serious?" Orihime's voice came out much more stunned than she thought.

Living with a boy? At her age? It hasn't even been a _year_ since they first started dating, much less since they reunited! Even with how close they were before then, were they already at this level? Was she mature enough?

"Call Tia and request for my accommodations," he told her.

... Well, she had been looking for two-bedroom apartments, anyway, with a new setting further away from her estranged family's home and her old complex. So it wasn't like the blonde wouldn't have privacy and a shut door while...

Orihime blushed yet _again_ , this time at the imminent thought.

Ulquiorra just gave her a suspicious stare.

The relative supporting much of her finances had been surprisingly lenient about her old apartment. There was some initial wariness about the sudden damage charges, but Orihime was a responsible person—she was overall trusted.

"You don't like it here?" she asked Ulquiorra meekly.

"I am thankful for the roof over my head," he explained, "as well as everyone's hospitality." He cast a bitter eye toward the rest of his room. "However, this living space is too cramped and too _communal_ for my liking."

Orihime nodded with understanding.

Ulquiorra leaned her head against his shoulder, his lips and breath warm against her head as he continued in a low tone, "And of course... I, too, enjoy staying with you."

She hid her blush by burying her face against him. His words dispelled all of her doubts.

Orihime recalled how he had called her _perfect,_ despite her flaws. He has seen her at both her silliest and darkest and has always been accepting of her as she was. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever said to her, and merely thinking about it now sent her almost swooning in his arms. How could she find another man like him?

More than ever, she was going to hold on tight to Ulquiorra and never, ever, _ever_ let go. "I guess it's decided, then," she replied with a soft laugh.

"Good." Ulquiorra pushed some hair off her shoulder and kissed an area on her neck. "And I apologize," he added from out of nowhere.

She looked at him cluelessly. "Why?"

His thumb circled where his lips had been. Orihime felt a weak throb of pain from his touch and realized that a hickey had formed.

"I used certain means to wake you up earlier."

He switched sides, to another patch of skin on her neck, another forming love-bite which he kissed as well. "Evidently, affection did not work."

She turned red, wondering why the heck she didn't wake up from it. "Oh."

She wished it did.

\- { - } -

"Ah, Inoue-san?" spoke up a middle-aged woman with blonde hair done in a simple bun. She bowed. "I'm Yoshida Hana, your realtor." She straightened and glanced at Ulquiorra curiously. "I... believe this young man is the one I spoke to earlier?"

"Yes," Orihime answered, bowing a little with apology. "I'm sorry about rescheduling at the last minute—"

"Oh, it's no problem!" Hana said dismissively. She looked down at her clipboard. "But I see that you're searching for a two-bedroom..." She raised an eyebrow at Ulquiorra.

"Ah, my roommate couldn't make it," Orihime affirmed timidly.

As if on cue, her phone rang. Judging from the personalized ringtone, she knew it was the blonde herself. She glanced awkwardly at the realtor. "S-Sorry, I need to take this," she explained. "It's her."

Hana shook her head. "Not a problem."

Orihime nodded politely in thanks and took a few steps away from her and Ulquiorra to answer it. "Tia-san?"

"I received your voicemail," she replied. "This _urgent_ message of yours."

She could hear the smile in the blonde's voice. "It wasn't urgent at all..." Orihime whined.

"Anyway," Tia went on. "I'm fine with Ulquiorra living with you. I decided that I would just take his old room. He can be your roommate instead. Would that not be more convenient?"

"R-Really!" The redhead's bewildered reply was shrill enough to catch both Ulquiorra's and Hana's attention. Orihime smiled at them apologetically and turned her attention back to the call. "Tia-san... I'm looking at a two-bedroom right now—"

"So?" she replied smoothly. "Can you not tell the realtor that you prefer a one-bedroom for you and your lover and that I found my own place?"

"That would be _weird_ ," she insisted.

"Why does it matter if she asks questions? After you find a place, she will probably not be confrontational enough to ask about me."

"..."

"I can tell that you really want to live with him," Tia teased. "I don't understand why it is such a dilemma for you."

"It's just that—forget it." Orihime almost forgot that her now former roommate was once like Ulquiorra and clueless about the social implications.

"So everything is settled, then."

"But Tia-san, are you sure?" the healer asked. "Urukkun's old room is so... small."

"I have slept next to a girl who used to constantly wake up in the middle of the night," Tia countered bluntly. "I believe with my own door, I can manage living at Urahara Shouten. I am not claustrophobic."

Even if Tia couldn't see her, Orihime's face still flushed with embarrassment.

"... Grimmjow is yelling for me," the blonde went on, sounding rather hurried. "Remember what I said." Without a goodbye, she hung up.

Orihime stared down at her phone. "Grimmjow-san...?" she mumbled in a puzzled done. For a moment, she wondered... since when did Tia sound so _eager_ and respond so quickly to—

"Orihime."

She blinked at the sound of Ulquiorra's voice, remembering where she was. "Ah... um..." she spoke up, closing her phone shut. She smiled awkwardly at Hana. "Is it okay if we look at one-bedroom apartments instead...?"

Ulquiorra shot her a rather open, surprised look.

"Sure, but only one?" the realtor questioned with a blink.

Orihime scratched the back of her neck self-consciously. "It turns out my roommate found a place she's satisfied with already."

She snuck a smile at Ulquiorra.

With a bit of discreet wonder, he managed form a faint one right back at her as they followed Hana out of her office.

\- { - } -

Lucky. That was how Ulquiorra described his and Orihime's relationship. Not only with seeing each other again after the Winter War, their brushes with death, or finding a cozy, quiet, already-furnished apartment, but with just the simple fact that they had each other.

The kidnapping and the events thereafter had been blessings in disguise. If not for those, they would have never met. He would have remained in a life of darkness, seeing only what his eyes saw, unfeeling of anything else but the thirst to eliminate those he deemed _trash_.

_Such a sorrowful life..._

Ulquiorra fished his keys out of his pocket and inserted one into the lock, inwardly eager to see Orihime. She should be home by now.

He had finally joined a school organization upon Orihime's insistence and was just coming home from a rough session of kendo. Now, he just wanted to have his woman in his arms and sit back and relax from the rigorous training.

"Thank you so much," Ulquiorra suddenly heard from the other side of the door.

He tensed with suspicion. Who was in there with her?

He unlocked the door and opened it hastily, finding that...

... she was alone.

But he did catch six bright flares disappearing into her hairpins.

"Oh, welcome back, Urukkun," she greeted him merrily.

"I could hear you through the door," he said.

She seemed nonplussed by the wary tone. "I was talking to my fairies." She smiled and stood up. "I'll tell you about it after I make us something to drink."

"Green tea," he said. It was the only thing she made properly.

She had no problem with it. In fact, she probably thought his suggestion was incidental. "Green tea, it is!"

. .

Ulquiorra learned that she had requested for the former blockage her fairies had used earlier in the year, to permanently disallow her from using the corrosion shield—for as long as she had these powers. It had been something she took a while to think about, apparently.

"I don't think I ever want to use _that_ ability again, anyway," Orihime was explaining to him in a soft voice. She took a sip, gazing out in thought. "I have more control now. My Shun Shun Rikka and I forgave each other, so now we just have to rebuild the trust we lost."

"You make them sound like they are your friends," he commented.

She nudged him with her elbow, chuckling. "Well, I guess they are!" she exclaimed. "I fret about them as much as I fret about Kurosaki-kun, Tatsuki-chan, and the others!"

He glared at her. "And me."

"Most of all, you," she reassured him. "But you're more than just my _friend_ , Urukkun."

"Did they say anything else?"

For a second, she hesitated. "Just other stuff from... _that_ night."

His scowl deepened. "It seems like a subject that does not die down when it should," he told her.

It was Orihime's turn to frown. "I can handle the _subject_ just _fine_ ," she responded. "There were other things I wanted to think through, so don't go being a dry blanket."

He sipped his tea. "I believe the expression is _wet blanket_."

"Well, either way, you don't have to get so angry when it comes up," she said, suddenly miffed by his attitude. "I'm not going to freak out about Vasto Lordes or—"

"You do not understand," he interrupted her, his tone softening to a sullen murmur. He stared at the rim of his cup. "... Orihime, I thought I lost you."

Her expression eased up dramatically.

"So, it is not for your sake I dislike that memory... it is because I do not want to recall what it was like to have you vanish from my arms."

It was a hard thing to admit, especially with as much pride as he had, and to someone he wanted to be strong for. Ulquiorra was not invincible—not only because of the limits of his human _gigai_ and abilities, but because he learned to feel emotion. The feeling called grief he faced back then was not something he ever wanted to experience again.

The atmosphere grew somber. Ulquiorra didn't care if that was his fault; it was the truth and not something he needed to keep from her.

He watched her as she set her tea cup down to wipe a few tears that had fallen from her eyes.

"Why are _you_ crying?" he asked her with deadpan, lightly teasing her despite his expressionless face.

"I just..." She smiled tearfully. "I just realized how much how much you love me."

"Just realized? That is good to hear," he answered dryly.

She grabbed his arm. "No! I mean..." She paused. "I remembered your voice in the void. I heard your pain. I _felt_ it."

He flickered his gaze downward, uncomfortable.

_"WHERE IS MY WOMAN?"_

He shut his eyes briefly, to reel himself back into reality. It was no use allowing himself into the past. Everything had turned out for the better. He was here with his woman again, and they have become better people. If he and Orihime had to constantly remind themselves of that, so be it. Their respective demons were strong, but their human hearts and minds were stronger.

The sunlight from the window caught a brief sparkle of the pin resting at his collar.

_Yes—this power... this inner strength we share..._

_This is happiness._

Meanwhile, she sighed, lost in her reflections again.

"What?" he prompted her.

She shrugged but turned her eyes away, doubting herself.

" _What_?" he asserted in a more authoritative tone, closing his face in to catch her gaze. "You are clearly thinking something you are not supposed to, Onna. So don't have second thoughts about telling me."

A long paused followed. He waited.

And at last, in a tiny voice, "You knew about me, didn't you?"

He furrowed a brow in confusion.

"That secret everyone was hiding," she elaborated with hesitation. "What exactly happened—"

"Why are you thinking of that?" he asked her in a frustrated tone. What was the human expression for something like this? Beating a dead horse?

Although incredibly annoyed, a part of him remained worried; even if he did admit that Urahara Kisuke had told him about it, he wouldn't know how to defend himself, for once. Would she buy his reasons? His desires to protect her? He didn't want her to think he had betrayed her—everything he had done for her was done with the absolute best intentions.

"I won't get upset," she replied softly, contrary to his assumptions.

Ulquiorra looked at her with doubt, at first, and then sighed quietly, turning away to stare at the floor. "I did know," he confessed tonelessly.

Orihime lowered her eyes to her lap. "How long?"

"I found out during the summer."

Ulquiorra watched as she drew out a long, contemplative breath.

"Does it upset you?" he asked her.

She gave it a bit of thought. He remained skeptical, but it didn't take her long to respond.

"... No, I understand," she said, her lips pulling into a small smile. "You only wanted to know because you thought it could help you protect me, right?"

He regarded her with an open surprise. He had been expecting her to be sad or angry, but she was taking it rather lightly.

She leveled his puzzled gaze with a steady one of her own. "I guess it's all right that you never said anything until now," she continued. "... I don't think I would have been mature enough to handle it back then."

Orihime was right. If he had spilled the information over the summer, she might have been upset enough to let her powers in chaos, unrestrained. If he had gone to Urahara Kisuke even earlier, when she had no idea how to control the corrosive shield, the result might have been much worse.

In the midst of his musings, Ulquiorra felt soft hands cup either of his cheeks. He switched his attention back to her.

"Thank you," she told him with such frankness that his heart was moved—her gray eyes bright and loving, her smile tranquil, and her aura a warm, beaming sun. "... thank you, Ulquiorra-kun, for being here."

Ulquiorra leaned in, his lips brushing against her cheek. "I would do anything for you, Orihime," he replied, his voice husky.

"I-I see..." she stammered, flustered.

"Almost anything," he amended. "Within logical reason, of course."

"... Oh, of course," she repeated, sounding a bit let down as she pulled back. Perhaps she had expected a more romantic outcome. "My Urukkun's always so realistic..."

The subject changed, and Orihime went back to her usual rambles of school and the better parts of life. Ulquiorra never minded when she talked—he liked hearing her so optimistic.

"—right, Urukkun?"

Well... this time, it seemed that he hadn't been—

"—even listening!" she cried indignantly with a frown, finishing the thought for him.

Her annoyance didn't affect him; in fact, he smirked. Everything about her just gave him a light, floating feeling, even after the heaviest of conversations.

"Ulqui—"

From out of nowhere, Ulquiorra reached out and roughly cupped her face with one hand. His fingers dug gently into her skin, smushing her cheeks. He remained expressionless, however, with the exception of the intensity of his eyes.

"Urrkkn?" she spoke up questioningly.

Without a word, he leaned over to kiss his woman, fishlipped face and all.

Everything she did, no matter what, was adorable.

She curled her fingers around his wrists. "Strrp!" she managed in a muffled voice, her face red.

He responded by possessively wrapping his arms around her, burying her confused cries into his chest.

Again, there was a sudden instance of morbid "what-if"; the scary possibility of losing her in either of her fights with that Hollow. The thoughts did not come around often like they did during this conversation, but when they did, he became more needful of her than ever.

This need—something exclusive to _humans_ , those people with the ability to feel freely—how did he come to want it so badly? Because here he was, embracing her as if she could leave him at any time.

"This heart," he found himself whispering—on accident, verbalizing a sentimental thought in passing.

He did not know what she would surmise out of the phrase. All he felt were her lips moving in question.

But in the end, she said nothing. Orihime had understood him; the gravity of the utterance, the density of the present moment.

Nothing will part him from this woman. _Nothing_. No more ashes. No more fading away into silent nothings. It will be the two of them, always; connected at the heart, linked by a thread of power he was convinced they shared.

Otherwise, how could either of them live, love, or hope if all they thought about were past demons and what-could-have-beens?

 

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end. It took me foreverrrrrrr because I really didn't know how else to finish the story.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this story! I don't really have anything else to say other than to look forward to future UlquiHime stories from me!
> 
> And holy crap, it's been two years since I first published this story! :O


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